Runaways
by MrsMCrieff
Summary: Eurus is out and coming after Molly which means Sherlock has to protect her. Rated M because, you never know, there might be smut in their future! Second place winner in the SAMFA 2017 awards for best M/E Adventure.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, I'm back with a new fic and this one is completely post season 4 as opposed to being tweaked. I was loosely inspired by the book Rogue Male about a man on the run (Benedict is currently pegged to be the main character in the film version) but that's where the similarity ends.**

 **I have to admit it was quite a difficult concept for me as I've never been on the run and have no idea where you'd even start especially if you're Sherlock Holmes! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Chapter 1**

Sherlock couldn't remember ever feeling this terrified before, his heart was hammering in his chest, his mouth felt dry and his hands were shaking ever so slightly. The only time he'd even come close was in those locked room puzzles set by Eurus and here she was playing with him once again. He had no idea how she had got out this time but she had and it wasn't that she was coming for him...no, he could handle that. Instead she was coming for his heart, she was coming for Molly. He just had to get to her first.

'Dammit, pick up, pick up...' Sherlock's fingers were drumming on his thigh as he listened for the phone that he was calling to be answered.

'You alright mate; you seem in a right rush.'

'Just shut up and drive...and don't go right we'll get caught in traffic...stay straight until the second lights.'

The cabbie was saying something in response but Sherlock was already not listening, the phone had been answered.

'Molly, listen to me. I need you to follow what I say exactly, without question. Leave the morgue, take the corridor to the caretaker's room, head past the laundry and exit Barts by the fire exit at the end. If you can get rid of your lab coat and find some other hat or coat to disguise yourself do it. I'll be with you in...' he consulted his watch and where they were, '...seven minutes. Don't talk to anyone, don't tell them you've spoken to me and Molly, whatever you do don't go near any car until you've physically seen me.'

With that he hung up, he was already worried that his phone was being monitored, that this cab was being followed using CCTV. He needed to get Molly out of London, as far away from Eurus and technology as he could. He'd have to rely on John and Mycroft to deal with his sister for now, his only concern would be Molly's safety...nothing else mattered.

He had to acknowledge that the cab driver was making good time, traffic was light, the route was clear and he was breaking as many traffic laws as he could to get his client where he needed to be. He'd obviously overheard the conversation and noted the concern in Sherlock's voice and he was responding accordingly.

Sherlock's mind was already three steps ahead trying to think of the best place to take Molly to. It had to be remote, with no connection to either of them but first he had to get them out of London.

With a minute in hand and following Sherlock's directions the cab pulled round into a back alley behind the old edifice of St Bartholomew's hospital. Sherlock just hoped that he was in time, that Molly was still safe. Beyond a handful of people he didn't know who he could trust. He'd have to live on his wits and rely on Mycroft's ability to find Eurus. He hated being so reliant on him, on anyone else, but needs must.

The cab had made it to the end of the alley which culminated in a large gated yard, currently standing open, which was filled with a variety of large wheeled bins, some overflowing with rubbish awaiting collection. The door that Sherlock had told Molly to leave through was closed and there was no sign of her. He could hear his heart beat thudding in his chest, was he too late, had he missed her somehow? He started to exit the taxi with one eye on the door hoping she'd come through it any minute.

Once he was outside he turned full circle taking in every detail of the quadrangle and it was then that he saw her and relief flooded through him. She had hidden herself behind the third bin along from the door and she was nervously peering out to see if she could see him.

When their eyes met he saw her relieved smile as she pushed the bin forward just enough that she could squeeze her way past and reach him.

He moved forward to meet her half way and without either of them really thinking about it they embraced.

'God, Sherlock you terrified me, what's going on?'

The only other time that Sherlock remembered being in her arms like this was when he'd returned from his fake death and he'd surprised her in the staff changing rooms less than a hundred yards from where they were standing now. Just like then she was holding him hard and close and just like then he'd felt a swell of emotion for this small, fierce woman who loved him so unconditionally. But unlike then they had no time for indulgence.

Sherlock pulled away from her and took her hand towing her along with him back to the cab.

'Not here, not now. It isn't safe.'

He gestured for her to get into the cab but before he followed he took his phone out of his pocket and threw it in the direction of the bins where it hit the wall behind before clattering in pieces to the floor. He heard Molly's sharp intake of breath at his actions.

He turned back to her. 'Do you have your phone on you?'

She looked shocked and confused but she shook her head. 'I...no...no it was in my locker.'

He climbed into the cab beside her and barked another instruction to the cab driver. 'I thought as much. I'd already tried reaching you on it before ringing the morgue landline.'

'Sherlock, what the hell's happening? I was mid-autopsy, I've left a body open on a slab. I can't leave.'

'You have to, we've no choice. I need to get you to safety, now, tonight.'

She gripped his arm. 'But why, you still haven't told me why?'

He closed his eyes in frustration, almost feeling embarrassed to tell her. Once again her life was in danger because of him, because of his family. 'It's Eurus..she's out.'

Molly fell silent taking in his words. When she spoke, a moment later, he could hear the fear in her voice. 'Your sister? The one in that prison that John told me about...how, how could she get out? I thought Mycroft had put in place extra measures.'

Sherlock sniffed. 'We both did, but once again it seems our sister is more resourceful than we gave her credit for. I don't have the full details as to how I just know she's gone and she left a message behind...one which I've heard before.'

'What message?'

'It was written on the floor of her cell, in blood. It just said "I'll burn the heart out of you".'

'Oh.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly felt more than a little confused at the turn around that her day had taken. She'd woken up feeling happy and positive, the sun was shining, Toby was curled up asleep at the side of her and she had plans with her best friend Meena that night to hit the town and get drunk and boogie, maybe even pick up some men.

She'd been an hour from finishing work when she'd answered the phone in the morgue expecting it to be her boss Mike Stamford or one of the other pathologists or technicians. She had absolutely not been expecting it to be Sherlock, she didn't even know that he knew that number though it didn't really surprise her...very little about Sherlock surprised her nowadays...she knew to expect the unexpected when it came to him.

What was very evident, very quickly, was the urgency and authority in his voice. Something somewhere must be very wrong for him to give her such hurried and unusual instructions and after understanding the real reason behind that strange phone call from Sherlock four months ago she knew to act on what he said without question...well, within reason.

So as soon as she had put the phone down she had pulled off her remaining latex glove and her lab coat and she had swiftly made her way down the corridor and out through the exit. She hadn't seen anyone on her travels but as she waited at the door she had heard someone starting to open the inner door. She was shocked at how scared and vulnerable she felt in that moment so she'd quickly hidden herself in the small gap behind the bins.

Thankfully it was just one of the hospital cleaners emptying their cart of some rubbish bags, but even after she had gone Molly stayed where she was; only peering out round the side of the bin when she heard the sound of a diesel car driving into the turning area. The relief she felt when she saw Sherlock seemed disproportionate to the situation but she couldn't help but throw herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his expensive suit.

She sat and listened to Sherlock in the car as he explained that his sister was loose and she knew from what she had heard about his sibling over the last few months that she was very intelligent, very unstable and very scary.

John had been the first to mention her. He had come round the day after that strange call with Sherlock where he had insisted on her telling him that she loved him. She'd spent the following 24 hours after he'd hung up in complete fear and confusion. She couldn't get hold of either Sherlock or John, Greg had no idea where they might be and Mrs Hudson was still out of London staying with her sister following the recent explosion at Baker St. Molly felt completely isolated and at a loss about where to turn.

Finally she had had a text from Greg to say that John and Sherlock were safe and a few hours after that John had shown up.

'I'm sorry, I can't stay long Molly but I needed to see you before I went to collect Rosie.'

He'd followed her through into her open plan kitchen and front room but instead of sitting he'd leant against the mantelpiece looking a little nervous.

'What is it John? Greg said you and Sherlock were safe...was he lying? Is..is...' her throat closed up at the thought of something being wrong with Sherlock but John quickly moved to allay her fears.

'No, don't worry Molly. Sherlock's fine, so's Mycroft. They're both with their parents. Listen I've come about that phone call yesterday.'

Molly coloured up as she remembered it. 'Oh, so you know about that then?'

'Yes...listen...Sherlock asked me to explain but I hardly know where to start.' And he had launched into the story about Sherlock and Mycroft having a sister that Sherlock couldn't remember, how they had been held in an offshore prison that this woman controlled and how they had been made to pass certain tests.

Molly sat down heavily on her settee. 'Oh...so that's what it was; just a test for you all to pass? I suppose it makes sense now.' She gave a hollow laugh but she knew her voice sounded muted and sad; she just couldn't help it. That small part of her that had hoped that Sherlock had meant those words finally died.

John sat next to her and took hold of one of her hands. 'Listen Molly, please don't blame Sherlock. He was desperate, we all were. She'd killed people...in front of us. We had no reason to suspect that she wouldn't kill you too and Sherlock couldn't let that happen. You should have seen him Molly...after...he was devastated at having to hurt you.'

He'd then explained that Mycroft was sending some people round to clear her flat of any surveillance equipment and that Sherlock would be spending some time with his family for the foreseeable future then he left.

Molly had felt violated, not just by the emotional impact of that call but in knowing that she had been filmed, in her own home.

In the end she had gone to stay with Meena for a couple of nights leaving her key with a neighbour. She didn't want to be there when Mycroft's people were crawling over her flat, she didn't want to know what other rooms had cameras in and she didn't want to hear when Sherlock was back in town...at least not until she had built her emotional resilience to him back up.

She'd finally gone round to Baker St one day when she knew he and John were clearing up. She needed to control when and how she saw him and not have him bursting into her place of work when she least expected it.

After greeting Mrs Hudson she had made her way upstairs and stood in the doorway looking at the scene of devastation. It felt like a metaphor for her heart and standing in the centre was Sherlock. He turned his head as she arrived and their eyes locked together and there seemed to be an unspoken communication between them; his an apology and hers an acceptance. Then he'd held out a black bin bag to her. 'Here to help Molly? Good, we seem to need all the help we can get.'

And just like that they were back to being friends again.

 **So we're off and running...sorry, sorry I couldn't resist it. Anyway, the story begins, the game is on. Let me know if you are on board.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, great to hear so many of your comments about the start of the story, glad to have you on board with me. So, let's crack on with the next instalment, catch you on the flip side.**

 **Chapter 2**

The cab seemed to be heading east but as they drove into Blackwall tunnel Sherlock tapped the shoulder of the cab driver. 'Stop in another 50 yards and let us out. There's enough here to cover the cost and some.' He passed some notes over. 'And if you wouldn't mind, keep going on the other side for about two miles before making your way to your next pick up.'

'You sure guv?'

'Yes. Stop here.'

'Right you are then, I've had some weird requests in my time so I'm not gonna ask.'

He pulled over whilst they were in the middle of the tunnel and Sherlock gestured for Molly to exit as fast as she could. He followed her out grabbing the plain black rucksack that he had brought with him before banging the top of the cab to indicate to the driver that he could move off.

They had to step over a small barrier to the thin walkway at the side of the road; it was obviously not meant for pedestrians but rather was there for maintenance workers in the tunnel.

Sherlock pointed back the way they'd come and they set off walking but before they could exit the tunnel he pulled Molly right into a corridor. It was quite dark and Sherlock extracted a torch from his bag to help light their way. They followed this new tunnel for about fifty metre until Molly saw daylight at the end. There was a slatted metal gate barring them from exiting but as they reached it Sherlock stopped and started to rummage around in his back pack.

'We need to get changed...now.' He looked her up and down and frowned before sniffing.

'I hadn't planned on ever using this bag with you so what I have is not quite right but we'll have to make do.'

'Wh...what do you mean?'

'The clothes I have are for John but luckily he's quite short.'

He passed her a pile of clothes and then started to remove his jacket and shirt bundling them up and shoving them into the rucksack.

Molly looked at his half naked body and knew she should stop gawping but her mind was still struggling to keep up with the situation.

He must have noticed because he paused, holding a black t shirt emblazoned with a white logo of some kind.

'Come on Molly, we need to move fast and we can't be in the same clothes.'

'Right...OK.' She looked at the bundle in her hands which consisted of black jeans, a belt, a t shirt and a hoodie; all very un-John like.

She put them on the cleanest looking part of the floor and then started unbuttoning her shirt. Her hands were shaking a little and she couldn't quite believe that she was stripping off in public in front of Sherlock. A Sherlock who had now removed his trousers and was currently stood wearing the t shirt, a pair of dark jersey shorts and not much else. She bit her lip and tried not to stare...or at least tried not to get noticed staring.

She passed her blouse to Sherlock but he just scrunched his nose up and threw it on the floor.

'Hey, why'd you do that?' Molly put her hands on her hips completely forgetting in her anger that she was only wearing trousers and a black lace bra.

Sherlock turned to face her as he pulled up his jeans and it was only when his eyes fell on her chest rather than her face that she realised how little she was wearing. She cringed internally but decided to front it out. It wasn't as though Sherlock had ever paid any attention to her boobs other than to criticise their size.

'Why did you throw my top away?'

'Because it's cheap and awful and there's really no need for us to keep it. If you need new clothes we'll buy them as we go.'

'But you save your suit?'

'That suit is tailor made from saville row and cost more than your monthly salary. It won't be so easy to pick another one up and I might need it. Now come on.'

He picked up another hoodie and a baseball cap and Molly hurriedly pulled her t shirt on and then removed her beige work trousers before pulling on the black jeans. She hoped Sherlock hadn't seen her blue boy shorts which didn't match the bra but she couldn't be sure.

The jeans weren't too bad a fit, she had to turn them up and she needed the belt to hitch them in more on the waist with Sherlock having to make a new notch in it with a pen knife so it would fit. He did it whilst she was still wearing it and she was acutely conscious of how close he was to her. She could smell his cologne, still so familiar, and see the look of concentration on his face as he worked on the belt at her waist, his arm brushing against her chest.

Finally she was ready to go. The hoodie was again a little big but she was able to push the sleeves up.

The finishing touch to Sherlock's outfit was the red baseball cap covering up his curls.

'Put your hood up and keep your face down. Whatever you do don't look at any cameras. Are you ready?'

She nodded and he turned to the gate pushing it open.

She almost had to jog to keep pace with Sherlock as he led them across an industrial estate. By this time Molly estimated it must be about six o'clock and most of the units were closing up with people getting in their cars and vans and leaving.

Molly suddenly realised she would normally be leaving work around now and she wondered what must be happening back at Barts. Someone will have found the body she'd been working on and they must have realised she was missing.

She asked Sherlock about it.

'Stamford will contact Lestrade and by now Mycroft will have contacted him to give him a heads up on the situation. They'll keep a lid on your disappearance for now and before you worry I told Mycroft to make sure someone feeds your cat.'

He gave her a quick look and a smile and she couldn't help but return it. 'Thank you...for thinking of him.'

'Well, he never let me forget his presence whenever I used your flat. He's a noisy little thing if he doesn't get fed.'

Molly chuckled at the thought of Toby harassing Sherlock for food. She'd noticed a couple of times that he'd put some down when he'd been in to use her flat as a bolt hole. He'd rarely used it at the same time as she'd been there but she had always been able to tell when he'd been in.

Molly had wanted to ask Sherlock more about what was going on but he had set quite a fast pace and she struggled to keep up. She wasn't unfit as such but her job was quite sedentary; either sitting at a desk or standing over a corpse and the shoes she was wearing weren't the best for distance walking. If they were going to be doing a lot of this Molly figured she'd have to ask Sherlock for some walking boots. It struck her then that she didn't have any money with her...this was madness, she was heading off to God knows where, with no phone, no money, completely reliant on Sherlock for everything! If he had been anyone else she'd be running in the opposite direction... but he wasn't anyone else and she trusted him.

A couple of hours later and Molly's thighs and calves were aching and the soles of her feet were burning. She'd never seen so many back alleyways and underpasses and she barely even knew what part of London they were in.

Finally she pulled on Sherlock's sleeve slowing him down a little as he turned towards her. 'Please Sherlock, I need to rest. I'm starving, my feet are killing me and I..' she knew she was blushing a little but she ploughed on. '...I need the loo.'

He huffed showing his displeasure but nodded his head briefly. Five minutes later they came across a shabby looking cafe at the quiet end of a local row of shops. They seemed to be in Holloway in the borough of Islington but it wasn't anywhere Molly knew or had ever been to before. Sherlock had them wait for a couple of minutes in a side street whilst he double checked for any cameras but finally he relented and they entered the now welcome warmth of the establishment.

Molly quickly made her way through to the customer toilets so she could freshen up, washing water over her face and wishing she could have a shower to relax her muscles and clean off all the grime and sweat from a day in the morgue as well as so much walking through the dirty underbelly of London. By the time she came out Sherlock passed her a hot mug of sugary tea and whilst he went to the bathroom she turned her attention to the food menu, eventually plumping for an All Day Breakfast knowing that that sort of meal was what a cafe like this did best.

Sherlock ordered himself a burger and as they drank their tea, waiting for the food to arrive, she quizzed him further about what exactly was going on and what his plans were.

'You know I can't keep going all night Sherlock. I'm not as...I don't know, fit or bloody minded as you. I need sleep, preferably in a bed and maybe a shower.'

'I think your life is worth more than a comfy pillow and a shower Molly.'

She was silent for a minute as their food was brought out and their conversation was suspended whilst they both eagerly tucked into their food. Molly had to admit that it was delicious. She couldn't decide if it was exercise and hunger that made it so tasty or if the chef was more talented than he looked but it took her mind off their plight momentarily. When she'd taken the edge off her hunger and washed it down with more tea she looked over at Sherlock who was keeping one eye on the news that was just starting on the TV hung on the wall in the corner of the cafe.

'So, back to your sister, are you sure it's me that she's coming after? I mean why would she? I'm no one special. Surely John and Rosie are in as much if not more danger. Do you know whether he's OK?'

Sherlock glanced at her briefly. 'John will be fine, Mycroft has arranged for him to go to a safe house.'

'Then why can't we? Anyway, it's not as though she can find us is it, she can't tap into the CCTV cameras or track us once we're off the grid. Maybe you just...I don't know...over-reacted...'

He arched a single eyebrow at her before his focus went back to a story on the news about global warming.

Molly sighed knowing she wasn't really getting through to him. 'Come on Sherlock, maybe it's not as bad as you think. Just give your brother a ring and see what he says. I'm happy to stay in one of these safe houses for a bit if you're worried but...'

It was at that moment that Molly saw a visible reaction from Sherlock; he tensed and sat up straighter, concentrating his full attention on the screen. She turned to see what had distracted him and felt her stomach roll over in disbelief and horror at what she saw on the screen.

The noise of the cafe around her seemed to dim as she strained to hear what was being said.

'...devastating explosion in this otherwise quiet block of residential flats here in Bethnal Green. Whilst no one has been killed two residents have received serious injuries and are being treated in a specialist burns unit in central London. A further seven residents have received minor injuries and are in the local hospital just down the road.

'Police have informed me that a flat on the second floor has been completely destroyed. The owner of the flat hasn't yet been named by the police but locals have said she is Dr Molly Hooper, a mid thirties, professional woman who lived on her own. Dr Hooper is a known colleague of the famous hat detective, Sherlock Holmes, though it is unclear if he is in anyway connected to what has happened here.

'The Fire Service have yet to say what caused the explosion but they have ruled out any kind of gas leak.'

The picture panned over and zoomed in on the black smoke which was coming out of a shattered window which Molly recognised as being her own bedroom window.

She could feel a lump forming in her throat even as her mind struggled to take in the magnitude of what she had just seen and heard. Images tumbled over and over in her head...her home...her things...photos of her parents before they died...

Her eyes widened and her stomach lurched and she finally let out a sob and a single word...'Toby'.

 **OK, I'm sorry I really am. Just know I am a cat owner and lover and haven't done this lightly but if you need to rage then let me have it. Other than that, are you enjoying it? I'll be back soon.**


	3. Chapter 3

**To make up for Toby and following a couple of requests I'm posting this chapter a day early. I've also come along to squeal and let you know that I managed to get tickets to Letters Live in July and I'm now hoping and praying that either Ben or Loo are reading, both would be amazing.**

 **Anyway, thank you all for your reviews, every last one. They keep me so happy and motivated.**

 **Chapter 3**

Molly's head was spinning and there was a buzzing noise in her ears. Her throat was burning with the need to cry. She felt Sherlock taking her hand giving it a gentle squeeze and when she looked up at him she could see his mouth moving but she couldn't seem to take in what he was saying.

He frowned and seemed to be speaking more urgently and she tried to focus in on his words. His voice was low and stressed. 'Molly, please listen to me. You need to keep it together; we can't afford for anyone here to connect you to the explosion. Come on, stand up, let's go.'

He stood, swinging the back pack over one shoulder, as he pulled her to her feet. He kept hold of her hand pulling her out of the cafe and she heard him give a quick thank you to the owner. She tried to smile but knew it didn't feel right on her face so she turned her head away. Maybe he'd just think they were lovers having a bit of a row.

When the cold air hit her face her mind cleared a little but it made what she'd seen feel all the more real and when Sherlock turned them into a nearby alley way she finally felt her knees buckle under her as her world started to fade out. The last thing she remembered was hearing Sherlock swearing and wondering vaguely if she'd ever heard him say that word before. Then she felt his arm around her shoulders catching her before she hit the ground.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

She had no idea how long she had been unconscious but when she finally came to she was lying in a pitch black room on a fairly uncomfortable mattress. The thing she was most keenly aware of though was the smell which was musty and old, like walking into an empty house which had been unlived in for years and had started to succumb to damp and rot.

As she took in what little she could about her surroundings her memories from the evening before flooded back and she remembered seeing the images of her home blackened and destroyed; her cat dead and her neighbours injured all because of some vendetta that Sherlock's sister had against her. She suddenly felt very scared and very alone. She reached out in the bed and when her hand hit someone's chest and she heard Sherlock grunt in his sleep she couldn't help but shuffle over so she could get closer to him.

He was lying on his back and she put her head on his shoulder and her arm around his waist. She knew it was wrong but she felt so lost and vulnerable and she just needed to be close to someone, anyone.

He grunted again and rolled towards her, his free arm wrapping around her and pulling her closer, his legs tangling with hers. It was then that she realised she was only wearing her t shirt and pants, Sherlock must have removed her jeans just as he had removed his own. She understood...it wasn't sexual, not for him, he was just being practical and no one liked sleeping in jeans.

She sank into his embrace, breathing in the familiar and comforting smell of him and she squeezed her eyes shut willing herself not to cry over what she had lost. All that mattered was that she was here with Sherlock and with him she felt safe and secure. If anyone could protect her it would be him and it was with that thought in her mind that she fell back to sleep.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The next time Molly started to waken she knew it must be almost morning because she could sense the daylight through her still closed eyelids. She stretched a little and realised that she was still lying wrapped up in Sherlock's embrace. The difference was that as she stretched his leg moved between her own and she could feel what suspiciously felt like an erection pressed against her hip.

She moved again and realised his thigh was rubbing against her in a way that was sending all kinds of delicious shockwaves through her body.

She knew she ought to pull away but when she started to, Sherlock's hand slid down her back from where it had found its way under her t shirt and he pushed down on her lower back making her press against him harder. At this she couldn't help but let out a low moan as she felt wetness flood between her legs, she had an overwhelming feeling of base need.

Her hands dreamily started to make their own exploration. Her right hand was against his chest, feeling his steady heart beat under her palm and her left had been resting on his waist but she let it move down until she reached the edge of his t shirt. A moment later and she was touching bare skin, letting her fingertips glide up his spine feeling more than hearing as he groaned, his cock pulsing once making itself known.

She knew she ought to check that he was awake, that this slow, delicious dance was something he was aware of and consenting to but equally she didn't want to break the spell. It was so far outside the comfort zone of their friendship but something she had wanted for so long and it didn't seem real somehow...as though she was still asleep and dreaming.

As she gently rocked against his leg, feeling her arousal growing, his hand moved back under her shirt sliding up her side until she felt his thumb brush the underside of her boob. She found herself holding her breath, needing his hand on her breast so badly it was almost painful. Instead he stroked the skin, up and round, and she could feel the roughness of his thumb against her flesh.

Again she moaned as she moved closer to him so her mouth could seek out his throat, needing to taste him, wanting his skin under her tongue. As she moved in he held her to him and rolled onto his back taking her with him so she was lying on top of him but before anything else could happen there was an interruption from the other side of the room.

'Whatever you two think you're about to do you can fucking stop, you ain't the only people here. You wanna fuck? Go get a hotel room.'

Molly felt as though she'd been doused in cold water. She jolted with shock and she felt Sherlock stiffen and his eyes opened, looking surprised. She rapidly slid off him, pulling the covers up to her chest as she finally awoke fully and took in her surroundings.

She was lying on a mattress on the floor of an uncarpeted room. On the other side of the room was another similar sized mattress with two girls on it, one asleep and one not, and finally a smaller one with a guy wrapped up in a sleeping bag under the heavily curtained window.

The girl who was awake, obviously the one who had spoken, was sat up leaning against the wall and lighting a cigarette, the flare of the match lighting up her features momentarily.

She nodded at Molly, smiling ruefully. 'Sorry to interrupt your session but being a voyeur really isn't my kink.'

'No, that's fine...I...umm...'

Sherlock sat up at the side of her and swivelled around so his legs were off the mattress then he started to pull his jeans on. Without saying a word he passed Molly her trousers before standing and finishing buttoning his then he left the room leaving Molly wondering what the hell had just happened between them and what Sherlock even thought about it. She was glad it was still quite dark because she knew she was blushing in mortification.

'You wanna fag?'

The girl was holding the packet as though to throw it to her and Molly was almost tempted to say yes. It had been years since she had last smoked but with all the events of the last 24 hours she felt as though she needed something to help her get through it. Instead she shook her head and thanked her.

'Where am I? I don't remember much about last night.'

The girl gave a chuckle. She looked to be about 25 but Molly suspected she was probably younger. Her hair was dyed jet black and cut in a jagged bob. As Molly's eyes accustomed to the gloom she could see she had piercings in her nose and eyebrow and tattoos covering her bare arms.

'I bet you don't. I was worried he'd roofied you when you first arrived, that's why you both came in here. I wanted to keep an eye on you but he was fine, perfect gent...'

'Oh...' it seemed strange to Molly that anyone would see Sherlock as a potential rapist given his asexual tendencies but she was grateful to this girl for looking out for her. 'Thanks.'

'S'fine. We gotta look out for each other haven't we. I wish someone had been there to look out for me a few times in the past. Anyway...you fancy a coffee? It's only cheap shit but it's free, Robbie stole a huge tin of it last week and there's still loads left over.'

Molly acquiesced and pulled her jeans on before following the girl out of the room, leaving the two others to their slumbers.

As they left Molly asked if there was a bathroom.

The girl who had now introduced herself as Carla snorted in derision. 'Of sorts. There's a bucket in that room there but no running water. Is this your first time in a squat or what?'

Molly gave a non-committal answer but given she desperately needed the loo she had to swallow her pride and use the bucket. Carla told her where to go after and then left her to it.

Molly had to hold her breath in the 'toilet' and was grateful that at least there was a cheap pack of nappy wipes to act as a way of washing her hands. She would have given quite a lot in that moment for a proper toilet and shower but it seemed it wasn't to be.

She made her way downstairs and followed the welcome sound of Sherlock's voice and the smell of the coffee. He was in the kitchen, if you could call it that, talking with a guy who exhibited every sign of drug use that Molly could think of.

'I got everythin' on your list, best I could. Bikes legit so you won't get pinged by any cops, Bez is outside givin' it the once over. Helmets are a bit old and the same with the jackets but there wasn't much choice. Wigs said you'd pay up on receipt?'

Sherlock thanked him and handed over some money and he waited for the guy to leave the room, leaving them alone, before turning to greet Molly.

Molly knew she was blushing as she remembered how they had awoken that morning but Sherlock seemed unfazed and didn't make any reference to it so neither did she.

'Get yourself some coffee and food if you need it, we need to set off in the next half hour.'

He pushed away from the cabinets where he'd been leaning and made to move past Molly but she put her hand on his arm to stop him; removing it when she saw his expression as he looked down at it. He looked positively furious and Molly felt herself getting a little angry, she wasn't totally to blame for what had happened.

'Wait, where are we going? I still don't understand why she's doing this.'

'She's doing this because she can, because she's bored and I'm the nearest thing that she has to a toy.' He paused, looking off to the side before he went on, 'I...I am sorry about your flat Molly.'

Molly had to take a deep breath before she could answer; the pain hitting her all over again. 'It's not your fault Sherlock. I don't blame you...I just wish there was something more we could do, I hate running away.'

This time he turned to her taking her elbows and looking her in the eye with an urgency she hadn't seen in him before.

'I have to keep you safe Molly. I can't...I just can't lose you...not now, not ever. Now get your food, I'll meet you out the front in twenty minutes.'

 **So the first initial signs of Sherlolly have started and I promise we will find out more of Sherlock's perspective in the next chapter. In the meantime you know how needy I get for reviews. Make my weekend and send me one xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**It seems most of you liked the start of the smut in the previous chapter and were disappointed it was interrupted. Well' I can't promise any in this chapter but it won't be that long off.**

 **Chapter 4**

When Molly finally made it out of the front of the squat she squinted in the morning sun not having realised how gloomy it was in the house without any electricity for lights. She was confronted with the gloriously sexy sight of Sherlock wearing blue jeans and sitting astride a large, sporty looking motorbike revving the engine. He was deep in discussion about something with a guy she hadn't seen before. The latter was kneeling on the floor and looked like he'd just been adjusting something on the bike, his fingers were covered in oil and he had a small roll bag of tools at his side.

'There, that should sort it. Do you have far to go?'

She heard Sherlock responding and sounding a lot less posh than normal. 'Yeah, we're heading up North, maybe Manchester, might have a better chance of picking up work up there.'

The guy muttered a quick 'good luck' as he picked up his tools. He gave Molly a quick but dismissive look as he walked past her and into the house.

Molly was starting to feel an excited kind of nervousness. She had never been on the back of a motorbike before and it looked both scary and exhilarating especially the idea of being so physically close to Sherlock.

He had left the engine idling but had swung himself back off to stand at the side.

'So, we're heading up North then?'

Sherlock frowned and looked round before answering. 'Don't be ridiculous, why would I tell someone where we're really heading?'

'Oh.' She bit her lip and looked back at the bike letting one hand drift over the seat, feeling the heat where Sherlock had just been sat.

She hadn't noticed he was watching her until he spoke. 'You haven't been on a bike before have you?'

She smiled ruefully. 'You guessed correctly.'

'It's never a guess Molly. Come on, let's check your helmet and jacket fit properly.'

First he passed her an old battered brown leather jacket. 'Put it on over your hoodie, it'll get surprisingly cold on the bike when we get going.'

She did and managed to do it up OK before putting on the thick, black biker gloves as well. He huffed as he looked down at her feet. 'It seems neither of us are wearing the right shoes for biking but we'll have to make do for now. Boots would have been harder to come by.'

'How did you get this stuff?'

'Well, after you collapsed last night I had to risk calling on some of my homeless network for help. You were surprisingly heavy to carry.'

She punched him on the arm but knew from his expression that he was just joking with her. 'Yeah, I'm sorry about that. It was just...I hadn't really realised until I saw my flat just how real this was.'

'Anyway, I found someone I knew and they directed me here. I then sent one of them with a message to Bill Wiggins asking him to get me some form of transport. A bike is easier and cheaper to purchase with the added advantage that the helmets mask our appearance as well.'

'Have you actually ridden a bike before?'

At that he just arched an eyebrow before bending down to pick up a matt black helmet from the floor and help Molly put it on. It was surprisingly snug and she waited whilst Sherlock buckled it up and then checked it. He nodded. 'It'll do.'

She watched as he put his own stuff on and internally thanked whoever had obtained it all for the black biker's jacket that Sherlock was now wearing. It was something she had never imagined him wearing but she knew it would have star place in her fantasies from this day forth along with those tight blue jeans which showcased his backside perfectly.

He swung a long, slim leg over the bike and then leant back to flip down a peg either side then he gestured for Molly to get on.

There was no other way but for her to hold onto his shoulder as she put a foot on one of the pegs and climbed on, her knees slotting either side of Sherlock's legs.

He turned his head. 'Don't be shy Molly, hold on and hold on tight. Lean with the bike and try not to head butt me when I brake.'

She nodded in response and then snaked her hands around his waist. Her heart was beating ten to the dozen and she didn't know whether it was the close proximity to Sherlock or the bike or both.

He set off and after negotiating a couple of back streets he eased them into the morning traffic on one of the many A roads around London. As they picked up speed Molly found herself tucking in closer to Sherlock and grinning from ear to ear. This was so much more thrilling that she had ever realised it would be. It felt so free, feeling the wind battering her clothes and the road whipping by underneath their feet. She felt a bit like Rose standing at the bow of Titanic and she almost wanted to fling her arms out in the same gesture.

Her daydreaming came to a bit of a crashing end when Sherlock braked sharply for some lights and Molly barrelled into him, her helmet crashing against the back of his.

She swore quietly and then shouted an apology before making sure to keep a better eye on the road ahead from then on. She soon got the gist of holding on as he accelerated and then bracing herself as he braked; leaning into the corners with him.

Gradually they made their way across London, the bike making progress so much faster, giving them the ability to jump queues and weave through traffic. Then they hit the M23 southbound towards Gatwick.

As they got into the long slog of the motorway Molly found herself with plenty of time to think and as she did her thoughts went back to that morning and the way she had found her body moving against Sherlock's. Even just the thought of it made her swallow heavily, feeling lust and an aching need between her legs. It didn't help that she was sat this close to Sherlock, her hands not so much holding on now that they were cruising but resting at the top of his thighs. Each time he changed gear with his foot she could feel the muscles working under her touch.

She desperately wanted to move her hands, to slide them along his legs and feel more of him but she knew how wrong it would be. She had no doubt that what they had engaged in would have been a mistake in Sherlock's mind. He had probably been as asleep and drowsy as she had been and bodies can betray you when your mind is disengaged.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock had busied himself that morning with practicalities. Checking the bike, deciding where to go, checking weather and traffic reports using a borrowed phone, listing the items they needed to purchase soon and how much it would cost and how much money he would have left. They needed to call into a western union once they were out of town and when their appearance had been sufficiently altered; he had a system set up with Mycroft and he knew there would be funds available.

The trouble was that once they were underway with their journey there was little to focus his mind on except where Molly's hands were on his waist or his legs. He couldn't even shift that easily to accommodate the partial erection that he seemed to have been suffering with ever since they'd woken up in such a compromising situation. And the one question he kept asking himself was what would have happened if they hadn't been interrupted, if they hadn't been sharing a room with other people.

He knew how he felt about Molly; he had known it ever since that eviscerating day at Sherrinford. He loved her, he had probably always loved her but now he knew it, he felt it deep down through to his very bones but he couldn't do anything about it...ever. If he did it would be the single most selfish thing he would ever do. She deserved so much more than him and more than that she deserved safety and security.

He had meant to end their friendship completely, to say or do something so cruel that she would never forgive him, that she would move away and meet someone else and forget all about him. But each time that a moment presented itself he couldn't do it, he just couldn't say the words that would remove her from his life and so he'd put it off promising himself that he'd do it the next time he saw her or the time after that and look where it had got him...look where it had got her. She was facing the very danger that he had predicted she would face if she remained part of his life. He had done this to her, by being weak and selfish.

His mind kept replaying the scene that morning over and over on a loop, tormenting him. Waking and finding Molly not just in his arms but tangled up with him, her legs moving against his, her breasts pressed against his chest albeit chastely covered by their shirts. When she had arched her body against his he had responded in kind, his mind not yet fully in control, his body acting on instinct being led by his ever hardening cock instead of his brain.

He had wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone in his life. All he had desired was to feel her wrapped around him, to be inside her; wet and warm and slick. To feel her sliding on and off him before rolling them both over so he could fuck her, hearing her calling his name as she came, feeling himself pumping his seed into her.

He groaned into his helmet and shook his head trying to rid himself of these images. He needed to concentrate otherwise he'd miss something but dammit her hands were infuriatingly close and yet miles away from where he wanted them to be. Every so often she would press a little more firmly on his thighs or her fingers would trace circles on his jeans and each time his cock would pulse and he'd be flung back into lurid fantasies. It felt as though he was fourteen all over again. One night with her had caused this, how was he going to cope with more?

A wicked voice in his head, which sounded uncannily like Irene, told him he shouldn't bother. That maybe he should put them both out of their misery and just have sex with her already. Maybe if they slept together it would get her out of his system, he wouldn't be so hung up on her, or maybe he'd fall even further and giving her up would be that much harder if not impossible.

The motorway gave way to the A23 and Sherlock continued their journey down to Brighton. He planned to stop at a small independent camping shop that he'd found online in a small village just outside Brighton and Worthing. If they were to do more biking and possibly camping they both needed boots and equipment.

He just needed to focus on the case, focus on the practicalities; he had to keep Molly safe no matter what.

 **OK so there was maybe a little bit of smut. Let me know what you think of Sherlock's perspective. Does it sound plausible for him? I hope so.**


	5. Chapter 5

**So, I don't think any of you go the notification for my last chapter...at least I'm hoping that why I didn't really get much response from you guys. Anyway, I suppose the upside is that you've now got two chapters to read and catch up on. Here's hoping the emails go out this time.**

 **Chapter 5**

They'd been on the bike a good three hours when they stopped, first for more fuel and then in a small village which looked picture perfect to Molly, an old church, a pub and a couple of quirky independent shops. On the outskirts was the one Sherlock wanted, a small but well stocked camping and hiking shop. He was glad to see that the cameras installed around the shop were old and not even working, it made his life a whole lot easier knowing they didn't have to try to hide their faces.

They both tried on various hiking boots and waterproof coats until they'd picked out something suitable each and Sherlock went on to select a two man tent, with sleeping bags, a calor gas burner and pan plus plates, cups and cutlery.

The owner of the shop was happily trying to engage them both in conversation but Molly left Sherlock to do most of the talking, not quite knowing what their cover story was.

'My girlfriend and I are thinking of walking part of the South Downs Way and camping as we go. I did it in my youth but Molldoll hasn't done much walking. Have you?'

He slung an arm round her and looked at her happily whilst Molly looked at him with something akin to horror at the nickname he'd just used...she hated that one and he knew it.

'Aw she's not that happy with me, she hates that nickname. I'm sorry, I promise I won't use it again.' Then he bent his head and gave her a quick kiss on the lips before releasing her so he could follow the owner as he discussed maps.

Molly watched him walking away and shook her head, this trip or exile...whatever it was, was going to be the death of her. She couldn't help but touch her fingers to her mouth remembering the feel of his lips on hers however brief. Even something so innocent had the ability to make her stomach flip over and her skin tingle.

Whilst he was buying their purchases Molly borrowed some money and walked up to the small village store to buy some lunch. She paused outside looking at the rack of newspapers. It was strange seeing photos of her flat on the front cover of a couple of them. She couldn't resist picking one up and buying it along with a couple of Cornish pasties and some juice.

She walked back to the camping store feeling the sun on her face and wondering at the strangeness of her situation. In most other circumstances going away with Sherlock like this would be a dream come true, instead it was the only bright spot in a nightmare. She needed to ring her mum and her friends to let them know she was alright. She needed to sort out the insurance on her flat, she needed to talk to Mike and make sure she didn't lose her job off the back of walking out but she also knew she couldn't do any of that. It was such a mess.

By the time she got back Sherlock was packing up the bike. They'd kept the hiking boots on as they'd bought them and the rest, the coats and a few other bits and pieces went into the side panniers on the bike where Sherlock's original back pack was. The tent however, packed into a large framed rucksack also holding the sleeping bags, would need to be worn by Molly on the bike.

Before they set off though they sat side by side on one of the village benches eating their food and washing it down with the juice she'd bought.

'Where are we going to stay tonight?' Molly asked as she finished.

'I'll probably find us a caravan park for a couple of nights. One of the cheaper sort where there will be less questions asked about cash payments. I need to go into Brighton tomorrow to a western union to pick up some more money...Mycroft will have sent some...we have arrangements in place for this kind of scenario. Before I can though we need to change our appearance, be less recognisable. How are you at cutting hair?

'Oh...err...I don't know, I've never done it. You?'

'I'm sure I could follow a you tube tutorial.' He gave her a quick smile and Molly couldn't help but smile back even as her hand nervously went to her hair. She'd always been really picky about where she'd go for a haircut and now was she really contemplating letting Sherlock hack at it?!

'I'll get you set up in the caravan and then I'll go and buy some provisions. Come on, let's get going again.'

Molly had a last stretch before putting on the rucksack and her helmet and climbing back on the bike. It might be enjoyable in the short term but long stretches on the bike were proving to be more boring and back breaking. She was glad that they were almost at Brighton and even more grateful when Sherlock finally drove into a small camp site dotted with a few static caravans as well as pitches for tents. He'd already driven past three which he'd slowed at but obviously rejected for one reason or another.

He left Molly with the bike and went into the small office to hire them a caravan and Molly took a quick look around. It wasn't much more than a field with a good view down over Brighton and to the sea beyond. On one side of the field was a block of showers and washing facilities for those camping, the booking office doubled up as a shop and across the road separate to the site was a chippy and a pub, Molly felt in desperate need of a drink and wondered if maybe they could pop in later.

When Sherlock came out he was carrying a small plastic bag with tea, coffee, milk and sugar as well as the key to one of the caravans. He passed the bag over, pointed it out and then took the bike off the stand wheeling it over rather than riding the short distance.

The caravan was shabby and basic but Molly didn't care, it was the nearest she'd come to a shower in almost two days and she was desperate to feel clean. They unpacked the bike and Molly made them both a mug of tea and Sherlock asked her if she wanted to go with him to pick up some basics. She thought about it but just couldn't bear the idea of getting on that bike again so instead she cried off so she could indulge in her shower...a bath would have been even better but she wasn't going to complain.

It was only after he'd gone that she realised she'd forgotten to ask him about clothes. She only had what she stood up in and it was feeling seriously grotty and she didn't fancy being all clean and then having to put on dirty clothes. In the end she showered, enjoying the rush of hot water on her aching body, thankful for the small complimentary soaps and shampoo/conditioner. Then, whilst she was wrapped up in a slightly too small towel, she washed her underwear and t shirt in the sink before leaving them to dry on the tiny radiators.

She towel dried her hair and slung it up into a messy bun and then she took in the rest of the caravan wondering what, if anything, she could use as clothing whilst her stuff dried.

By the time Sherlock got back she was wrapped up in a sheet.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

He was absolutely sure that Molly had no idea how unbelievably sexy she looked when she walked out of the bedroom to greet him with bed hair and wearing nothing but a white sheet. He caught her apologising and saying something about wet clothes but his mind was struggling to keep up with the way his body had instantly reacted to her. It probably hadn't helped that he'd spent most of the day vaguely aroused but he needed a cold shower and he needed it now.

It wasn't to be though, Molly had asked him what he'd bought and when he showed her the hair dye, scissors and laptop (which now meant he had less than fifty pounds cash reserves) she had frowned and asked him what they were meant to eat.

'It's no good, why don't you go get us some chips from the chippy over the way and I'll buy something healthier for us tomorrow.'

He let himself be manoeuvred out of the caravan and was almost grateful for the cool air hitting his face bringing him back to himself somewhat as he wandered across to the exit.

As he stood in line at the chip shop waiting for his order he berated himself for being so easily affected by her. He was getting worse not better. He vowed to himself not to sleep in her bed tonight. It was too much of a risk, especially given how low his defences were when he was half asleep. He wasn't too bothered by the lack of a bed, there was a long couch in the living area and he needed to set up the laptop so he could keep up to speed with developments and try to contact Mycroft for an update.

When he got back to the caravan Molly had put out a couple of plates and made another couple of mugs of tea and she took the chips off him dividing them between the two plates whilst he tried to get the little gas fire going with an old lighter he'd found in the pocket of his leather jacket. He tried not to notice that Molly's hold on the sheet kept slipping or that when she sat down she was showing off a lot more leg than normal. He could easily imagine himself leaning over and sliding his hand up that smooth expanse of skin until he could touch her and feel how wet she was for him.

'Stop it!'

'Sorry, did you say something?' Molly was looking up at him with a confused expression.

'No, no, I'm just angry with myself about our situation. I should have been in touch with Mycroft before now, John could still be at risk...I hate not knowing what's going on... hence the laptop.' He waved his hand towards it where it was charging up before he could use it.

'So what do you know?'

'Not enough. Mycroft rang yesterday afternoon to say that Eurus was missing. It appears that this time she is working alone, she befriended and seduced one of the female guards with a similar build and appearance to her and after sex she killed her, swapped clothes, left the message and walked out using that woman's badge and identity. It was three hours before anyone checked...the idiots all thought she was just sleeping. She could be anywhere by now but my guess is London and who knows what contacts she has there. She knew Moriarty, worked with him, she would know who he knew and that leaves us with our problem.'

Molly put her plate down and moved closer to Sherlock and he hoped she didn't notice how it made him tense up and hold his breath. He worried that he would just give into her if she ever made a move on him. He had to trust that she wouldn't on the basis that her own innate modesty prevented her from truly suspecting him of having feelings for her but he felt as though he were balancing on a tightrope every time they were alone together.

'I'm sorry. I know you were trying to get to know her...to have some kind of connection with her.'

'Stupid I know. She's the purest form of sociopath that I have ever witnessed. She's the embodiment of absolute intelligence unadulterated by any form of attachment or emotion. I used to aspire to that until I actually saw it.'

'Well, if you ask me I like you with a bit of humanity in you. I knew you could never be quite as cold and unfeeling as your brother or as you tried to make out and from the sounds of it your sister is much much worse.'

Sherlock looked at Molly and saw all her compassion for him in her eyes and he knew he never wanted to live without her, she saw him like no one else did and loved him anyway.

He was aware of the moments ticking by and the atmosphere between then growing and changing. It felt, to him, as though there was an electric current between them, tethering them and pulling them closer together. His eyes flicked to her lips and he saw her tongue lightly brush over her bottom lip and he wanted to kiss her. He wanted it so badly he felt his nails digging into the palms of his hands as he tried to stop himself from reaching for her. Slowly, inexorably, he felt himself lean in.

 **To kiss or not to kiss that is the question. Oh and please give me some feedback, I'm feeling neglected after that last chapter :(**


	6. Chapter 6

**Fanfiction is still not playing ball with the email notifier. Some of you have found the new chapters but for those who were wondering where I'd gone I've been here all along wishing you could join me.**

 **Chapter 6**

Before he could do anything more Molly coughed and giggled. 'Sorry...sorry, I suppose I'd better go to bed. Will you be err...?'

Sherlock turned his head and took a deep breath. 'No, I'll stay up. I need to get the laptop set up and if I need to sleep out here is good enough, just throw me out a pillow. Sleep well Molly.'

'Yes, you too Sherlock.'

He watched as she made her way through to the bedroom and then he decided it was time to have that shower. He left the laptop charging and made his way over before grumbling to himself at the irritatingly small size of the shower cubicle. It might be alright for someone of Molly's stature but he had to duck his head to get any of the water on his hair.

He washed himself and thought about changing the heat setting to cold to try to rid himself of the hard on that he seemed to have been sporting all day but he knew it just wasn't going to be enough. If he wasn't careful he'd end up embarrassing himself in his sleep. There was nothing else for it he'd have to take matters into his own hands.

It didn't help (or did it) that he knew Molly was metres away from him lying naked in her bed. He braced himself against the wall of the shower then closed his eyes as his other hand wrapped itself around his erection and he started to stroke, jerking himself off to images of Molly in his head. He knew it was wrong, that it was filthy and degrading but he imagined himself taking her in the lab at Barts, she'd be wearing nothing but her lab coat, asking him what he needed and telling him he could have her. Well, he wanted her...all of her. He wanted to kiss her, touch her, fuck her.

He knew he was grunting with effort and he could only hope that she couldn't hear him but if she did would she join him? Would she get down on her knees and take him in her mouth? He imagined her teeth scraping down his cock, his hips rocking into her as she took him deeper and deeper. He could feel his balls tightening and his mind starting to white out and his hand tightened as he felt his come rising before spurting out and mixing with the water in long, white, satisfying streaks.

He had bit his lip so hard in an effort not to cry out her name that he worried for a moment that he might have drawn blood but thankfully he hadn't. He sagged back against the flimsy, plastic wall, catching his breath and he turned off the water knowing that Molly would be wondering why he was taking so long and not wanting to rouse her suspicion.

By the time he dried off he felt much better and more in control of himself. He couldn't afford for his emotions to get in the way of their safety. He made a cup of coffee and settled down to contact Mycroft.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly lay in her bed listening to Sherlock's shower, the water pump whining away and she tried not to imagine him naked and washing himself, soap and water sluicing over his naked body.

For a moment in the front room she had almost caught herself leaning in to kiss him and it had only been at the last moment that she had realised what she was doing and pulled away. The last thing she needed was for him to feel awkward around her because she'd made a pass and he'd had to reject her. It would be far too humiliating.

She rolled over wrapping the covers tighter around herself and let the tiredness wash over her. It had been a long and stressful couple of days and thankfully sleep ended up coming to her quite easily.

When she woke up she was almost sad to find that the bed was still empty. She had hoped beyond hope that Sherlock might have joined her but it wasn't to be.

She checked her clothes and was happy to find that they were all dry, even if the t shirt was a little more crumpled than she would have like but she dressed and visited the bathroom before making her way into the darkened front room.

Sherlock was fast asleep on the settee and Molly had to put one hand over her mouth to stop the squeak of shock from coming out as she realised he was stark naked. His cover had partially fallen onto the floor and he was lying half on his back, half on his side with his arm over his face and last but certainly not least he was sporting a rather impressive erection. She knew she was blushing bright red as she made her way over to him but her only intention was to cover him up and preserve his modesty. She knew he wasn't shy about his body but surely even he would not have wanted her to see him this in flagrante.

As she tucked the cover back over him he murmured her name and she smiled to herself enjoying hearing it on his lips. She couldn't resist pushing his curls off his face slightly, seeing how young and stress free he looked in his sleep. He seemed far less intimidating like this. It was then that his eyes opened and locked on hers and she moved away feeling embarrassed that he had caught her staring at him but before she could go too far his hand reached out and caught her wrist pulling her back to him.

'Molly...'

She was a little unbalanced and she fell to her knees beside him her free hand landing on his chest feeling his warm skin naked to her touch, his heart beat strong in his chest.

For a moment he gazed at her and she could feel herself heating up but then he frowned in confusion and released her as he sat up, the sheet pooling at his waist; he rubbed his face with his hands and pushed his hair away looking around the room.

'What time is it? Are you OK?'

Molly got to her feet and checked her watch.

'Yes, I'm fine. It's just after ten. I was...umm...just about to wake you. Coffee?'

He nodded and swung his legs off the settee before standing, holding the sheet low on his hips. Molly opened the blind in the kitchen area and busied herself with the cups and the kettle trying not to keep looking at Sherlock's body but failing miserably.

She expected him to go and use the bathroom or the bedroom to get dressed but instead he just made his way over to the laptop and sat down, playing with the mousepad to wake it back up.

'Did you manage to get through to Mycroft last night?'

He turned a little to face her and the sheet moved giving Molly a view of the side of his body and his hip.

'I hope so. I sent him an encrypted message late on, I'll know in a minute if he has responded. Yes, here it is...' he tapped to open it and then read it out but it seemed to make no sense to Molly.

'The wind is lost but the milk has been obtained and put in the fridge. The Rolling Stones are playing down and the red flags are flying.'

Molly snorted a little as she passed him his coffee looking over his shoulder as she did to see if he was winding her up somehow. As she finished reading the email she became acutely conscious of how close she was and how naked he was and a snapshot of him lying naked snuck back into her thoughts. She pushed it away.

'I don't get it.'

'It's simple enough. The wind is my sister so he still hasn't got a track on her; John is the milk so he's secure in a safe house.'

'And the Rolling Stone and flag analogies?'

'We're the Rolling Stones and as the saying goes we should gather no moss...so keep moving in other words. Playing down means stay south, so stay close enough to London to return within a few hours. Red flags flying is a concern...he's worried about his own position for some reason.'

He slammed a fist on the table making everything rattle and Molly jump.

'I need to know more. She must be in contact with someone in London by now. I've put some feelers out with my homeless network but nothing so far. I need to be able to contact people quicker. We need to pick up a cheap pay as you go phone and that means we need more money and for that I want us looking different. I'm going to the bathroom then you can cut and dye my hair, and I'll do yours. Find something suitable on you tube and I'll be back in a minute.'

With that he stood and made his way to the bathroom, the sheet trailing behind him.

Molly sat down in front of the laptop and started to try to find a decent tutorial but her mind kept going back to Sherlock, she felt like he was turning into her whole world and she knew how bad that was for her. She'd always had strong feelings for him and loved him from afar but now afar was getting very close and her emotions seemed to be running out of control. She was with him so she wouldn't get physically hurt but what about getting emotionally hurt!

By the time Sherlock returned having replaced the sheet for a towel wrapped around his waist, which did nothing for Molly's heart rate, she was biting her lip and frantically reading the instructions on a packet of hair dye.

Sherlock sat for a moment before grumbling sarcastically, 'in your own time Molly, we have all day!'

'Alright just give me a minute; I'm sure you don't want green hair or something.'

'I really don't care what colour it is so long as I look sufficiently different. Now, please, get on with it.'

She opened up the box and started unpacking the bits before tentatively running her hands through his hair. She'd wanted to do that for years and his curls felt as soft as she had always imagined they would.

'Are you sure you want me to cut it? You'll lose all your curls.' She wistfully let one wrap around her finger.

She saw his brow furrow in bewilderment. 'Of course, why wouldn't I?'

'Well, it's just...I like your curls.'

This time he rolled his eyes. 'Sentiment Molly, it's always a disadvantage.'

She flattened her lips into a stubborn line feeling mulish. 'Not always.'

'Maybe but being sentimental over my hair definitely is.'

She started to apply the auburn dye that he'd picked up for himself. As for hers, he'd bought a daring russet red which Molly was feeling particularly worried about. She'd never dyed her hair before always choosing to stay as natural as possible and that shade seemed so far out of her comfort zone.

Soon enough though it was her turn but as she sat in the chair that Sherlock had just vacated she couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him wearing a clear plastic bag tied over the hair dye. Even he couldn't carry off that look.

Her laughter soon died though as he started to touch her, brushing her hair off her neck, running strands of it through his fingers. Molly found her eyes closing and had to bite back a groan. Somehow it seemed so much more sensual and intimate than it ever had at a hairdressers.

And when she did open her eyes it was often to Sherlock's naked chest as he moved around her still only wearing the towel. He was killing her, slowly but surely killing her with lust..she'd be the first to die like that. It took all her willpower not to touch him.

Finally, once she was similarly bagged up and looking ridiculous he went to put some clothes on whilst she made them both a cuppa.

 **OK so no kiss but I hope the wanklock made up for that. Tension is building between them and it's going to need a release soon enough. On the off chance that any of you were alerted to this chapter being here, be kind and review...I need to know your out there.**


	7. Chapter 7

**So, I'm trusting that the notifier emails are working again on fanfiction and that you will actually get to know that this chapter is up. Here's hoping. Here's also hoping Benedict shows up to the BAFTAs, it seems like an age since we've seen him looking hot and gorgeous on a red carpet.**

 **Chapter 7**

Whilst they waited for the dye to take they discussed their plans for the day.

'We need to get money first, I've already checked and I know where the Western Union is in Brighton then I need to pick up a cheap phone. A burner would be better but pay as you go will have to do for now. I need to contact John and Billy, see what the latest is, by the time any trace is out on the call we'll be long gone.

'We can buy some more clothes and then stay here one more night but then we need to keep moving, maybe follow the coast down to Dorset then up through Wiltshire, circling London. Mycroft should have a handle on things by the end of the week and then we can head back.'

When it came to cutting hair Molly found yet another thing that Sherlock was good at though she hadn't been able to help the cry of horror that she let out when his first cut showed he was taking her hair to just above her shoulders; she had never had it so short before. She was pleasantly surprised though when she went and looked in the bathroom mirror. It was chunky and choppy with a fringe cut in and suited her surprisingly well but she looked very different from her normal self.

His hair cut definitely took longer and was one of the most nerve-racking moments of Molly's life...up there with cutting into her first body as a student. The colour had taken well on his hair creating auburn highlights in his dark hair which showed up all the more when she'd chopped off his trademark curls. He ended up with short hair at the back and sides with it slightly longer on the top. As she ran her hands through it she had to admit that whilst she loved his curls this cut made his eyes stand out more and showed off his cheekbones to perfection.

The whole morning had felt odd to Molly though. It was as though they were taking part in a slow dance of seduction. Every look, every touch seemed to be drawing them closer together. She knew it was ridiculous and all in her mind but she felt incredibly turned on by it all. It was driving her mad and had been ever since she'd woken up with him the day before. She was glad of their trip out that afternoon as it might help to distract her somewhat.

The trip into Brighton was fairly uneventful. Sherlock made sure they were wearing their bike helmets as they exited the caravan; he didn't want their new looks associated with their appearance on arrival. When they got to Brighton he even put on a pair of black framed spectacles which gave him a sexy geek kind of appeal.

They spent most of their time there together, just splitting up when Sherlock went to get the phone, Molly going to a supermarket instead picking up some food for the next 24 hours. She couldn't resist adding a bottle of whiskey to her basket of food. She had fancied a drink the night before but hadn't had a chance and she thought she'd enjoy one tonight. So much had happened to her in the last couple of days and she needed something to help calm her nerves. Anyway, she wasn't the only one needing a crutch, Sherlock had picked up a packet of cigarettes which always had her scrunching up her nose at the smell.

Sherlock finally rang John when they met up again down on the seafront, putting him on speakerphone so that Molly could join in.

'Jesus Sherlock, what the fuck is going on? Mycroft's shitheads picked me and Rosie up yesterday and I couldn't get hold of you at all. Have you heard about Molly's flat? Do you know if she's alright?'

'Yes she's fine, she's with me. I can't tell you where we are but we're safe for now. Just do as Mycroft says and this should all be over in a few days. If you need me try this number but I may have to bin it in a day or two depending on what happens. Either way I'll keep in touch if I can.'

It was getting dark by the time they made their way back to the caravan. Molly was happy to be able to change into the cheap pyjamas she bought for herself then she busied herself making a simple pasta dish whilst Sherlock went on-line to try to see how Mycroft was getting on. She even found herself laughing as Sherlock shouted at the laptop berating his brother for not doing what he expected him to do even though Mycroft couldn't hear him.

Finally, after they'd eaten their food, with Molly watching TV and Sherlock still at his laptop she decided to open the whiskey.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock felt out of control. He wasn't controlling the case, he wasn't controlling his addictions and he was most definitely not controlling his desire for Molly Hooper.

He had hoped that his actions the night before might have helped him but they hadn't. Every time she had touched him that morning whilst doing his hair he had held his breath or fisted his hands trying to control his reactions but nothing worked. Every touch had his body reacting, he had never before realised that touch, even innocent touch, could be so powerful.

It wasn't helping that Mycroft was sending him very little to work with case wise, he wanted more involvement in tracking Eurus but he was being blocked, something was happening, he knew that much, but he didn't have all the information so he was stumbling in the dark and it was driving him mad. His brain felt as though it had ants crawling through it, in and over every crease and fold and it was igniting his ever present need for drugs. He'd bought some cigarettes but they had barely scratched the surface so when Molly cracked open a bottle of whiskey and put a generous glass down for him he hadn't even thought it through, hadn't even considered the damage to the vulnerable defences around his emotions he had just picked it up and downed it in one.

He saw Molly jump slightly out of the corner of his eye when he slammed the glass back down on the table but he kept his eyes on the laptop.

When she refilled his glass he tried to drink it slower but he could feel that delicious burn in his throat and the way it seemed to envelop his brain in a calming blanket. He argued that if he couldn't have drugs and he couldn't have Molly he could at least allow himself this.

The third double had him turning away from the laptop and watching Molly watching the TV whilst she sipped on her own drink. Her shorter hair suited her delicate features and the pink pyjamas showed off her slim figure. He found his mind wandering back to the day before when they'd been in bed together and he found himself swallowing as he imagined everything that could have happened.

He picked up his glass and the bottle and went and sat next to Molly on the bench settee pouring more of the amber liquid into her glass before refilling his own. She was watching some silly detective show but he could tell she wasn't really interested in it. Instead there seemed to be an unspoken tension in the air as though they were both acutely conscious of the physical presence of the other. He took another deep draught of his drink knowing now that it was clouding his mind and his judgement but just not caring any more, and he reached out and touched the ends of Molly's hair seeing her head turn and her intake of breath as he did. Her eyes dilated as she looked at him and he knew, as he always did, that she was attracted to him.

The moment seemed to stretch and extend with endless possibilities and then without Sherlock really knowing how it happened they were kissing. Her mouth was moving against his as he pulled her closer to him needing to feel her under him as he pushed her back onto the settee, feeling her hands on his scalp, her nails scraping deliciously through his hair and sending tendrils of lust straight to his groin. His mind felt free for the first time in weeks as he gave in to pure physical desire. She tasted of whiskey and pasta and he couldn't help but slide his tongue against hers wanting more, needing to feel connected to her.

He pulled her back up to sitting just long enough to pull her top over her head and then they were kissing again, but this time there was so much naked skin for his hands to explore. She was wrapped around him, her breasts crushed against his chest and he could feel her skin sliding over her ribs as he held her to him.

He knew he was pressing himself against her just as hard, his erection painful and needy still trapped in clothing so all he could do was rock against her feeling every movement exciting him further.

Finally she pulled away trying to catch her breath and say his name but he didn't answer. Instead he moved his mouth to her neck, licking and sucking, tasting the slightly salty tang from their afternoon near the sea still lingering on her skin.

It wasn't long until his hands and then his mouth found her breasts and he lost himself in them hearing her speech turn to moans as he lavished all his attention on her. He hadn't realised that hearing her like this would be so arousing but it was making his cock pulse and he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to last without being joined with her.

His hands pushed at her pyjama trousers and he felt her wriggling under him as she struggled to help him remove them before her hands turned their attention to his jeans. He wanted to explore more of her body but they were both too desperate and instead as she unzipped them and reached inside to press her hand against his erection he moved back over her kissing her once more and feeling her legs open under him.

There was more awkward shuffling as she pushed his jeans and underwear out of the way and then he could feel her guiding him to her entrance. The head of his cock rubbing deliciously against her warm, wet quim starting to be enveloped by it; the sensation was so unfamiliar but so good. He'd had sex before but it had been years ago and mostly drug fuelled and his memories were nothing compared to how he felt now, in this moment.

He waited, letting his body get used to the feeling as his tongue explored Molly's neck once more but he could hear her begging him for more and could feel her hands pressing on his backside and so he slowly let himself push into her hearing himself letting out a loud groan at how tight she felt around him. He felt almost removed from himself, aware of what he was doing and how he was feeling but like his brain wasn't quite connected to his body and he knew it was the effects of the alcohol running through his system, dampening his conscious mind, how else had he ended up doing the one thing he'd vowed not to. Not because he didn't want to but because he shouldn't.

It wasn't long though before his physical need took back over. He could feel his arousal building, that in built physical need to procreate taking over. Every noise that Molly made, every touch of her body against his was just feeding his imminent climax. He had started slow but gradually his hips thrust against her harder and faster, his hands gripping the sofa cushion to give him more power. This wasn't love making it was fucking pure and simple, both of them needing it, wanting it, giving in to it.

Molly came first crying out his name and he could feel her muscles spasming around his cock drawing his own climax from him. He came with one final thrust, burying himself inside her as deep as he could manage before collapsing on top of her, trying to take some of his weight and gasping for breath.

 **They've finally given in to the sexual tension that has been building for days but what do we think the morning after the night before will bring?**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm back and full of a cold, so sorry in advance for coughing all over you. I'm also sorry that Ben didn't win his BAFTA..someday surely they have to give him one...don't they? He was looking mighty fine on the red carpet though and in those glasses so that cheered me up.**

 **Chapter 8**

When Sherlock awoke the next morning he was in a bed in a tangle of sheets and limbs. As his eyes opened his mind was flooded with memories from the night before and he put his arm over his face and let out a groan.

As he did Molly shifted against him, her arm across his stomach and her fingers grazing his hip.

He sighed and closed his eyes again... _shit, shit_. He had not wanted this... _Iiar._ OK that was wrong, he had wanted this but now what, it was just going to be all the more painful when he had to reject her. He wasn't good for her; it wasn't safe for her to be with him...ever.

He felt a hollow feeling opening up in his stomach at the thought of letting her go, of walking away and his throat felt tight, like it was difficult to swallow.

Just then Molly's hand started to move and he found himself holding his breath. He knew he should wake her up, to extricate himself from this situation but her fingers were sliding over his skin towards his groin and every part of him wanted her to touch him, every part except that one small, logical part of his brain.

His cock was already reacting in anticipation, pulsing and lengthening and his heart beat was starting to pick up in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to calm his mind but god help him he wanted her. He could remember every thrust, every scrape of her nails, the feeling of her mouth on his and her tongue tasting him.

She was kissing the skin on his ribs now and moving herself in readiness to...

The phone ringing on the bedside cabinet made him jump in shock and he rolled over fumbling in the semi darkness to try to find it, sitting up as he did and feeling Molly moving away.

'John, what is it?'

'I'm not sure I don't have all the details...'

He cut across him harshly. 'Then tell me what you do have and be quick.'

'Anthea came for Rosie in the middle of the night; she took her saying it wasn't safe anymore. Mycroft has been taken into some kind of custody, not the police...the government. They say he helped Eurus, that the three of you are in league somehow. It...it's not true...is it?'

'Don't be ridiculous. Eurus has infiltrated into MI6 somehow. Fine and stay close to Lestrade if you can, he can offer you a modicum of protection but honestly, none of us are safe now... I'll be in touch.'

He hung up already getting out of the bed.

'What is it? What did John say?'

'We need to leave...now. Be packed and ready in five minutes Molly.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly felt a spike of fear run through her body at Sherlock's words. He was already pulling his clothes on and she turned around and pulled open the drawer where she'd put her new clothes the day before. Before she could even ask him more or talk about what had happened the night before he was gone. She could hear him moving around the front room packing up the laptop.

Thankfully they didn't have much, just a few bits of food and their clothes so it was just under ten minutes before they were putting their helmets on and leaving the caravan. Sherlock quickly packed up the panniers and helped Molly to put the larger rucksack on her back and then they were off.

It was still very early morning and everything around them was in shades of grey, it also meant it was colder than it had been previously on the bike and Molly found herself hugging closer to Sherlock using him as a barrier to the biting wind. Her mind was overloaded and she felt almost grateful for some time to her own thoughts again.

She'd only been half awake this morning when the call had come through but she knew what had happened the night before and she had been eager to carry on being intimate with Sherlock. It was more than she had ever expected but now it had happened she was more than happy to move forward in a relationship. Sex with Sherlock had been...well, words couldn't describe it. She had been horny before they had even started but she had never climaxed with a guy during first sex. She'd always needed time to get familiar with someone and for him to find out (if they ever actually bothered) what worked for her and what didn't. With Sherlock it wasn't so much that he'd been good, though he had been, it was more the emotional connection that she felt with him. Everything about him appealed to her, his looks, his body, his voice and his mind; that unparalleled intellect turned her on more than any of the rest.

She hugged him a bit more and wished there weren't so many layers between her hands and his skin but even so she could feel his strong muscles and even his aptitude with the bike turned her on, as he maneuvered them first through the outskirts of Brighton and then through a multitude of country lanes. He seemed to be avoiding any main roads and she knew why; he was avoiding cameras. The fact that Mycroft had been removed from his position scared Molly, he had seemed so very powerful and untouchable from what she had seen and heard. If Sherlock's sister could have him removed what else could she do?

Gradually as they travelled colour leaked back into their world bit by bit as the sun finally showed its face. Traffic increased as they travelled and Molly figured they were in rush hour traffic now as people made their way to work. She recognised various signs as they passed them and knew they were heading West towards Hampshire.

Finally just outside Chichester they turned onto a rutted track that ran through a wooded area and half way along Sherlock pulled over and turned off the engine.

He waited whilst Molly climbed off and then did the same removing his helmet.

'We're nearly out of fuel and I don't want to have to take this bike to a fuel station. She'll know by now how we're travelling and will no doubt have alerts out for the bike across the south coast. We need to ditch it and go on foot for now.'

He started to unpack the panniers and told Molly to take off her back pack. He put the tins and laptop into that pack and she helped to pack the other items, their clothes and toiletries, maps and other bits and pieces into Sherlock's original rucksack. When they'd finished he took the larger pack and left Molly the lighter one.

'We need to hide the bike as best we can. The longer it takes them to find it the better. This is remote enough but help me get it further into the trees and undergrowth.'

It wasn't easy to push it through the undergrowth but finally Sherlock laid it on its side wedged under a thick bush, they then covered any bits that were showing with branches and leaves.

'That'll have to do. If we're lucky it'll take a few days before it's found. Right, let's move on.'

Molly hitched her backpack so it was a bit comfier and then followed Sherlock back out of the wood.

Thankfully it was a perfect day for walking, neither too hot nor too cold and the scenery was engaging even if Sherlock wasn't, she'd tried chatting to him but he'd waved her off and told her he needed to think. It seemed that not everything had changed, he was still very Sherlock with her. If anything it made her smile, she didn't want him to change who he was if he was with her, she liked him just as he was, warts and all.

Still, she wasn't shy in complaining after almost two hours of walking with no breakfast or even coffee.

'Come on Sherlock, my feet are killing me. We must be able to stop at a pub or something for some food...and I'd kill for a coffee.'

'I suppose so, you're as bad as John though. When we find somewhere make sure not to call me Sherlock...I'll be Will, it's my actual first name anyway. You can be...'

'Jenny, it was my mother's name.'

'Fine.'

Ten minutes later an old country pub came into sight and Molly couldn't keep the relieved grin off her face. They went through into the low-ceilinged, musty smelling bar and Molly looked at the menu whilst Sherlock ordered them two coffees. Then they found themselves a quiet corner and Molly couldn't help the groan she let out as she finally removed the back pack and let it drop to the floor, rolling her shoulders as she did. 'Oh, that feels good. Right, I'm nipping to the loo, back in a minute.'

She thought about giving Sherlock a quick kiss goodbye but he'd picked up a paper from the bar and was busy scouring through the headlines.

When she got back the coffee was waiting for her and she picked it up and took a sip even though it burnt her lips a little to do so. Sherlock threw the paper down and Molly turned towards him. 'So what's the plan then? Anything in the paper?'

'No, nothing but then I didn't expect there to be. As for a plan we could do with getting another form of transport, being on foot is too slow. If the bike is found it wouldn't take long for her to find us. I'd like to steal a car but I haven't seen anything suitable yet.'

'Steal a...we can't do that.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes and they both fell silent whilst the waitress brought their food over. Molly hadn't realised quite how hungry she was until she had a plate of pie and mash placed in front of her. She'd riffled through their food mid-morning but the biscuits she'd bought the day before hadn't really filled her up.

'I wouldn't get too sniffy about criminal behaviour Molly. I was thinking about breaking into an empty house so we have somewhere to sleep tonight...it's that or the tent, but I'd rather keep that as a last resort.'

'I don't mind camping; I used to go every year with my parents til I was fifteen.'

'Yes, well I'm assuming that when you've camped previously it was on a proper site with toilets and showers and cooking facilities.'

'Well...yes.'

'So not a hole dug in the floor acting as a toilet and bathing in a stream to get clean.'

'Oh...no.'

She turned to him and put her hand on his knee. 'But honestly Sher...Will, I don't mind so long as we're together...sorry, that sounded really clichéd didn't it but I mean it.'

She leant forward and kissed him but it didn't take long at all for her to realise that he wasn't reciprocating. Even worse, he gently pushed her away.

'Molly, I...I should clear something up. Last night...last night was a mistake. I was drunk and you were available...'

Molly felt as though he'd punched her, all the air seemed to leave her body at once. 'I was available...what the hell is that supposed to mean?'

'Nothing, it...it just means it won't happen again...it can't. I'm...I'm sorry Molly.'

Molly felt the room spin, she'd been an idiot, why on earth had she assumed that last night had meant something to him. It was always the same, she got her hopes up and he always dashed them...always.

 **Sorry, sorry...I seem to be doing a lot of apologising but I feel guilty because Sherlock is being an arse. Just...well, just have faith...it will all come right in the end. But I'd love to know what you think so far about his behaviour.**


	9. Chapter 9

**I'm going to apologise now because I haven't had a chance to give this a final read through. I also haven't had time to thank each of you for your reviews and comments, but I've been ill and then busy catching up with everything not done when I was ill :). But having said that I wanted to get this chapter to you today if possible.**

 **Chapter 9**

Sherlock hated the devastated expression on Molly's face as he rejected her and he pushed his plate away knowing that he wouldn't be able to eat another morsel, not now. That hollow feeling had opened up inside him again and he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to close it up.

He stood and picked up his rucksack. 'Maybe we should leave.'

He saw Molly hesitate and for a moment he wondered if she might actually refuse to come with him but in the end she copied him, picking up her own rucksack. Neither of them looked the other in the eye, neither able to break the awkwardness which Sherlock knew he'd created.

As they carried on walking it was as though all the energy had gone out of her and she kept lagging behind him forcing him to stop and wait for her every so often. Normally he'd have said something, berated her, chivvied her but he couldn't...not now. He knew what he'd done and he understood how she felt because he felt it himself, an emptiness and a sadness that just seemed overwhelming.

 _Maybe it's the wrong decision, maybe we could make it work, maybe I could keep her safe..._

 _...but what if I can't?_

The thought of being the one to cause her harm, to risk her life for selfish reasons made him feel even sicker and so he kept his eyes on the road ahead and kept walking.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly followed behind Sherlock and tried to calm her emotions. It felt like one of the worst afternoons of her life. She'd been dumped before, plenty of times unfortunately, but never by someone she loved as much as she loved Sherlock and never then being forced to spend time with them. She'd always gone away to lick her wounds, curling up in her bed and crying or watching a marathon of soppy rom com movies.

Her legs ached and her feet felt like lead but she just kept putting one foot in front of the other following Sherlock, watching him waiting patiently for her every so often. She knew his patience was out of character but she was grateful to him for not demanding more of her, she just wasn't sure she had it in her.

The only time that patience evaporated was when they heard the distant beating of a helicopter. When that happened she saw Sherlock running back towards her urging her to catch him. The fear it caused gave her a distraction from her misery and she ran the last few steps to meet him and allowed him to drag her under the nearest tree overhanging the path that they had been following.

As the helicopter tracked its way through the skies above them Sherlock had held her to him, his back against the tree trunk, his eyes looking up as he followed its progress through the canopy of leaves. It took a wide circle above them before moving off to the north.

'Was it looking for us?'

It was only when Molly spoke that Sherlock seemed to remember that he was still holding her, his arms wrapped around her shoulders. He looked down at her but didn't make any move to release her and she realised with a jolt just how close they were, his face was inches from hers. She saw him pause and his eyes dilated as he looked at her and she felt confusion rise up in her again. What was this?

It was only then that he seemed to shake his head a little and he let her go. 'Maybe, possibly. If she has enough influence to have Mycroft taken down she has enough influence to have us looked for. I need to find a wifi zone...check the news. I have a bad feeling.'

As they made their way into the next village Sherlock once again donned the black rimmed glasses and passed Molly a black beanie hat to put on, pulling the red tips of her hair round the edges so it showed. Even just this brief contact had Molly holding her breath and biting on her lip. They were being so intimate with each other and yet so distant, it was like some weird game, one minute close the next minute not.

Once he was satisfied they went into the coffee shop and Molly ordered some drinks whilst Sherlock set up his laptop and accessed the cafe's free wifi.

She ended up having to sit next to him on the low two seater leather sofa so she could see what he was looking up on his laptop and what she saw sent another trickle of fear down her spine.

 **Is the hat Detective on the wrong side of the law again?**

 _Renowned detective Sherlock Holmes is on the run and accused of planting the explosion which destroyed the flat of Dr Molly Hooper a respected pathologist based at St Bartholomew's hospital in London._

 _Dr Hooper, aged 34 and single, hasn't been seen since the explosion and fears for her safety are rising. Lady Amelia Smallwood who works closely with the Home Office said in an exclusive interview that it was suspected that Mr Holmes may be suffering from some sort of mental breakdown and that he may even have kidnapped Dr Hooper or at the very least duped her into believing he was protecting her somehow._

 _'If Dr Hooper is reading this she should be aware that Mr Holmes has previously suffered with both psychosis and paranoia. He was sectioned by his own family back in 2006 for six months and has recently stopped taking long term medication which was controlling his mood swings. If she is able to she should make her whereabouts known to the authorities.'_

 _The public are asked to be vigilant and if they should see either person to report it to the police who have set up a hot line below._

 **Breaking News...a Brighton camp site owner reports seeing Mr Holmes and Dr Hooper at his site 'they were here for two nights and left this morning' said Jeff Beckford, the owner. The couple are believed to be traveling West by motorbike, a dark grey Suzuki VStrom...**

'Oh God...' Molly suddenly found herself looking around the small cafe nervously. It felt as though everyone was looking at them even though when she checked no one was. Sherlock was checking other news outlets but they all seemed to have similar stories and all seemed to have numerous pictures of both of them. Molly wanted to scream...it felt as though her world was turning against her.

She glanced at Sherlock and saw how tense his jaw was as he read that same article. She also noticed that he didn't seem to want to meet her eyes.

She tentatively put her hand on his arm and saw him glance down at the connection. 'You don't need to worry...I...I know it isn't true...you know, what they said about you.'

As she said this she saw him visibly relax. Had he been that worried that she'd believe the things they said...did he still not know how much she trusted him?

Finally he turned to her. 'Drink up, the less time we spend here the better.'

She glanced at him again and nodded, picking up her cup and taking a gulp, feeling the coffee burning its way down her throat and into her stomach.

He drank his own drink and started to pack up the laptop. He only paused when one of the waitresses came towards them to collect their dirty cups at which point he turned to Molly with a big grin on his face. 'I love you too darling.' Then he kissed her.

Molly knew instinctively that he was protecting their identities, hiding their faces as much as possible but it most certainly did not help her battered heart which still leapt to his touch and longed for his kiss even though she knew it was all fake.

As he pulled away he lingered for a moment, his hand caressing her face as his eyes locked with her own. 'We need to get out of here...stay casual though, don't rush but try not to look at anyone.'

He packed the laptop back into his bag as Molly finished her drink then they made their way back out into the fresh air. This time when they started walking Molly found her energy renewed by fear and she kept up with Sherlock easily.

At the end of the village was a small garage selling second hand cars and Sherlock circled around looking at a couple just out of view of the office. Molly looked around nervously wondering what he might do, she'd never been involved in anything criminal and she was beginning to see why, she had no head for it, her heart was beating out of her chest and every sense seemed to be magnified. She was beyond relieved when he started walking again.

Her relief didn't last long though.

'We need to get rid of the phone and then find somewhere to hole up tonight. The garage is closed tomorrow which is ideal, we can come back early morning, take that Ford Focus, and no one will likely report it missing for at least 24 hours. Come on, let's see if there isn't anywhere empty or for sale preferably on the outskirts where there's unlikely to be any overlooking neighbours.'

It took them another hour to find a property that Sherlock thought was suitable. It was an old farm house a quarter of a mile outside the village which looked as though it was used now for holiday rental and had been closed up for autumn and winter. Sherlock was unsurprisingly adept at breaking and entering and had the lock on the front door undone within three minutes.

'It's too risky to put the lights on, someone could drive past and see them.' He dug the torch out of his back pack. 'See if you can find any candles and make sure you draw the curtains before you light them. I'll see if there's a router that I can use for the laptop.'

Molly finally found candles in a cupboard in the utility room along with matches and carry stands. It seemed the owners were prepared for black outs, not uncommon in the country side. She lit a couple for the kitchen and then carried two others through into the front room. It felt disconcertingly romantic.

She left Sherlock to his own devices and went back into the kitchen checking to see if the gas to the hob was still connected and breathing a sigh of relief when she heard the hiss. At least they could make cuppas and heat up some food for supper. She glanced at the old clock and was surprised to see it was after eight o clock. Time seemed to be losing all meaning for her now she was out of the routine of normal, everyday life.

She set about heating up some soup and ruefully eyed the remains of the whiskey which Sherlock had shoved in his bag along with everything else.

In the end she muttered a quiet 'sod it' and poured herself another helping. She was back to feeling maudlin again now that they were safely ensconced for the night.

She took Sherlock's soup through to him and then came back to the kitchen eating her own at the small breakfast table. She might have to spend the rest of her time with Sherlock but it didn't mean she had to live in his pocket.

She looked around at the pretty kitchen whilst she ate, it was all very traditional farmhouse and reminded her of visits to her grandmothers before she had died, it had that old world charm to it. She remembered sitting on her Nan's knee looking at pictures of her wedding to Molly's grandad during the war. Her grandad had died young and Molly had never known him but her nana used to tell her tales of how brave he was and how good looking. He'd also been intelligent, maybe not a genius like Sherlock but her Nan had often said she loved him as much for his mind as for his looks. It was then that she remembered something odd her Nan had once said.

'He was funny your grandad, he thought he didn't deserve me, thought I'd be better off with someone else. He ran so hot and cold when we first met that I didn't know if he liked me or not. Turns out he thought his job was too dangerous, in the war, and it wouldn't be fair to me. Men are silly like that...think they shouldn't be selfish.'

Molly took another sip of her drink and frowned, why did that seem so familiar?

 **So Molly is starting to work out what might be holding Sherlock back...what should she do with that information do you think?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Right I'm back and for the first time in about a week and a half I'm feeling well again. The sun is shining, I have a couple of days off work and all is well with the world...well, my world anyway.**

 **Once again thank you all for your responses to the previous chapters and apologies again if you didn't get a response, I know I was a bit hit and miss and lost track of who I'd replied to and who I hadn't. I promise to do better this time round.**

 **Chapter 10**

Sherlock was well aware of the fact that Molly had been avoiding him since they'd broken into the farm house. He knew why and he knew he deserved it but it didn't stop him from missing her. Even in such a short space of time he'd grown used to having her around, used to seeing her face and hearing her voice and even though he knew she was only in the room next door it felt as though they were separated by an unbridgeable chasm and he knew he only had himself to blame. It didn't help that he was now second guessing his decision, wondering whether not being with Molly was more disadvantageous than being with her.

If they were together at least he could monitor her safety, he could ensure she was protected. What if she left London or met someone else? The thought of her in bed with another man made him want to punch his fist through a wall. Why hadn't he considered all these things before, why hadn't he at least allowed himself to consider the possibility of being with her?

Part of him knew it was because he was his own worst enemy, he didn't think he deserved someone as good as Molly, how could he, after all the callous and thoughtless things he had done in his life...all the people he had hurt physically as well as emotionally. For God's sake he had killed people, he had been and still was a drug addict and that news report had been right, he had been sectioned; not for the reasons they'd said but following a bad bout of depression after his first rehab stay he'd tried to commit suicide and had spent two months in an institution paid for by Mycroft. A lot of his problems in his teens and early twenties now made so much more sense since understanding the part Eurus had played in his life but he knew that in some ways he was broken and probably always would be.

He let his head fall back onto the settee and he closed his eyes. He could hear the faint hum of the laptop in front of him and the clink of a bottle against glass in the kitchen...it sounded like Molly was finishing off the remains of the whiskey. He was tempted to join her, he wanted something to take away the misery he was feeling. He wanted to roll the clock back 24 hours to when they were together. He could still remember the taste of her, the smoothness of her skin and the weight of her breasts under his hands. He wanted to sink into her just once more, to lose himself in her.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the door to the kitchen opening and Molly making her way into the front room. It was only when she slid onto his lap, her knees slotting into place either side of his hips that he opened his eyes.

He could tell straight away that Molly was affected by the alcohol, not drunk but enough to loosen her inhibitions...though to be honest he could tell that by her actions without having to see the physical signs.

He frowned. 'Molly, I...'

She put her finger over his lips, shushing him as she did. 'I want to try something Sherlock...an experiment of sorts. How about I be drunk and you be available?'

Then she leant forward and kissed him.

He knew he ought to stop her, to tell her how conflicted he felt and how confused but she felt so good. She wasn't just kissing him she was pressing herself against him, her hips rocking slightly rubbing herself against him and it was setting off a chain reaction of mirrored need in him. He had just been thinking about how much he wanted her and needed her and now here she was testing him and he knew he didn't have the strength to say no...maybe he was just a selfish man after all.

With that last thought he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer as he gave in and returned her kiss.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly could hardly believe that it had worked. She had sat in the kitchen sipping that intoxicating golden liquid, feeling its warmth spreading through her system, as she pondered her nan's words. It felt as though they could equally apply to Sherlock, at least to the Sherlock of the last few days.

He had definitely been running hot and cold, she knew she hadn't been mistaken and that they had shared more than one moment of sexual tension before they had slept together the night before. She also knew that he was blaming himself for her being targeted by his sister...was it such a leap that maybe he thought he was doing the right thing by pushing her away? After all it was in keeping with this strange notion he had of himself not being emotional or caring about people even when Molly knew that was a lie...he cared about John and Rosie and Mrs Hudson and dammit she knew he cared about her...but did that mean he could love her?

The mousy, insecure teenager inside her wanted to believe that someone like Sherlock could never love someone like her; she was plain and insignificant. But the confident woman said, why not? He had always said she counted, that she mattered. She had even to some extent believed him when he had said he loved her and they had definitely had sexual chemistry the night before.

She poured herself another measure of whiskey and held the glass up, looking through it at the flickering candle before downing it in one. Maybe she needed to be brave and take matters into her own hands. What was the worst he could do...reject her again? At least then she'd know one way or the other and if he didn't...

She stood feeling the effects of the whiskey a bit more strongly as she did. It was a good kind of tipsy though, the sort that made her brave; that made her go after what she wanted.

When she opened the door to the front room she could see Sherlock sitting on the settee with his eyes closed, his head resting against the back of the seat, and she bit her lip at the sight of him, her heart beat accelerating as she wondered if she could really go through with her plan. He looked so handsome in the candle light though and she wanted to touch him and kiss him. If he rejected her so be it but she had to try.

His eyes snapped open as she slid onto his lap and she put her finger over his lips when he tried to talk. It was now or never.

By the time her lips met his she knew she had won, she could tell the way his lips yielded and melded with hers and within seconds his arms came round to hold her closer to him. It was all she could do not to cheer at her plan being successful. She knew him, she saw him and she had seen the lie behind his cruel words.

Her hands immediately moved to his t shirt breaking off from kissing him just long enough to pull it over his head. Last night he had remained pretty much fully clothed until after sex, this time she wanted him naked. She wanted to touch every inch of him, to find out what he liked and what he didn't like. She wanted to take her time and explore him.

His own hands weren't idle and he soon removed Molly's shirt and then her bra before covering her breasts with his palms kneading them whilst they carried on kissing. His tongue entered her mouth and slid along her own eliciting a groan from her that she hadn't expected to make. Her skin felt hot where he touched her and his every action was sending waves of arousal straight to her core. She could already feel herself getting wet for him just as she could feel him getting hard for her.

All of a sudden she had a desperate desire to feel him in her mouth, she wanted to taste him and drive him to the edge.

She let her mouth leave his hearing his protests but ignoring them as she kissed her way down his throat. She couldn't resist sucking in the skin at the base of his neck hearing his groans and feeling his hands pinching her nipples until they were hard. She wanted his mouth on her breasts but she wanted her own fun first so she kept going, moving down over his chest, scraping her nails over his flat nipples and then down over those strong stomach muscles.

She moved off his lap and as she knelt on the floor in front of him she saw him looking down on her with eyes that were half closed with lust and desire. His lips were red from kissing her and his hair mussed up from her hands and she didn't think she'd ever seen him look sexier.

Slowly and without taking her eyes from his face she undid his jeans, biting her lip and half smiling at him, seeing his expression change as he realised what she was doing.

With little protest he helped her remove his trousers and pants and finally his socks until he was stripped bare for her.

She let her hands travel up his long legs before she leant in and kissed her way up his inner thigh. She could see his cock twitching and bouncing desperate for her attention but she took her time first kissing up one leg then the other.

Finally she knelt up and took him in her grasp. He felt and looked big, he certainly had nothing to be ashamed of. Tentatively she moved her hand up and down gripping him just tight enough to feel him pulse in response. When she finally kissed the top of his cock she looked up at him and saw him biting his lip, his hands clutching at the arm of the settee on one side and the cushions at the other. She could already taste his pre-cum which was leaking out and coating his cock and her hand making him slick.

By the time she took him into her mouth he was already swearing and mixing expletives with her name and hearing him sounding so undone with her name on his lips had her muscles, those deep within her core, clenching and unclenching.

She took him as far as she could fisting the base with her hand and repeating the move taking him in a little more each time. She could feel his hips starting to rock into her and his hands threading into her hair as his cries got louder but before she could make him come he pulled her off him breathing heavily.

'Shit...Molly...wait...just give me a minute.'

He held onto her shoulders whilst he caught his breath and then he moved so he was kneeling in front of her on the floor; their eyes more or less level with each other. Then he kissed her, a slow, deep kiss that had Molly moaning into his mouth desperate for more.

When they finally stopped he kissed her jaw and then pulled back with a smirk on his gorgeous face. 'Your turn.'

 **So, did that make you happy? Or should I have made him suffer a little more first.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry to leave you right at a crucial point, I'm surprised I didn't get berated more :). Anyway, I'm back, the weather is good, I'm feeling great and I've almost (bar one morning) got a whole week off work. Bliss!**

 **One last thing just a warning for mild anal play...nothing too heavy though ;) but I get told off if I don't say anything.**

 **Chapter 11**

Molly lay back onto the soft woven rug in front of the settee and looked up at the ever moving flickers of the candlelight on the ceiling of the room as Sherlock Holmes went down on her.

He had started with her breasts and she knew from her own reactions that she was already close to climaxing. She was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that firstly it was Sherlock that she was about to have sex with and secondly that her plan to seduce him had worked and worked so, so easily. He hadn't put up any resistance at all.

As he kissed his way down her stomach she couldn't help but bring her knees up, opening herself up to him, desperate now to feel his mouth on her. He didn't leave her waiting, well not for too long. He spent his time kissing along from one hip bone to the other before sucking in the skin on one side marking her and when she looked down at him he caught her gaze. Seeing him, like that...between her legs, caused a flood of heat through her whole body ending in her quim.

Her hands scrabbled for grip on the rug as he finally used his tongue to lick up from her entrance to her clit and she let out a low moan feeling a wave of pure lust and need overtake her. He hummed in appreciation as he tasted her, licking up her juices, and the vibrations rippled through her making her more wet for him but she still needed more and she couldn't help the way her hips bucked towards him, belying her desperate need for friction and satisfaction.

He set a painfully slow pace as he explored her, changing the way he licked and sucked and bit as he gauged her reactions but all too soon he had worked out what she preferred and he used it to devastating effect, sucking and licking on her clit as he slid two of his fingers into her, curling them as he did so he hit that sweet spot inside her. She closed her eyes and gave into all the sensations he was creating within her as he played her body masterfully. When she came it was overwhelming, her hands moving to grip his hair as she basically, and shamelessly, ground herself against his face.

As she started to come down from her initial high he crawled up her body wiping one hand across his face before kissing her deeply. She could taste herself on his mouth and tongue and it just left her wanting more and more of him. His cock was nudging and pressing against her entrance and she brought her knees up to his waist feeling every movement as he slowly but surely started to enter her until finally he was ensheathed by her, pressing his hips against hers so he could go as deep into her as humanly possible and it all felt so unbelievably arousing.

Molly had heard of multiple orgasms but what she was experience felt like one long continuous orgasm, she seemed to move seamlessly from one to another and she was dizzy with it. She knew she was crying out for more, calling his name and using her hands and mouth to kiss and touch every part of him that she could reach and he gave her just what she wanted and more. He was thrusting into her now and she loved hearing him grunting with the effort and seeing his neck cording above her with the need to achieve his own climax.

When he finally came he was linking her hands in his, their fingers twined together. Molly loved hearing the sounds he made as his climax ripped through him, hearing her name repeated again and again in that deep baritone voice laced with so much emotion. As he finished he rested his forehead on hers for a moment, his eyes closed, before kissing her deeply once more, his body shuddering with aftershocks a couple of times making Molly giggle. Eventually he rolled off her onto his back putting his arm over his eyes as he tried to calm his breathing.

Now that it was over though Molly felt strangely nervous, she hadn't thought further than wanting to test his resolve but now what? She knew she wouldn't be happy with putting it down to another one night stand. She had experienced what it was like to be thoroughly fucked by Sherlock Holmes twice now and she wanted more...she wanted him, the sex, feelings...everything, what she didn't know was what he wanted and she was almost too afraid to ask.

It was then that he turned to her still breathing heavily but smiling. 'Molly Hooper, you never cease to amaze me. I can honestly say I would never have predicted you seducing me in that way but I have to admit I'm glad you did...it was...' he let his eyes travel over the darkened room as though searching for the right words to finish his sentence but in the end he just smiled again and shook his head a little before leaning over to kiss her once more.

This time the kiss was slower and sweeter, they had lost the urgency they'd had previously but what was left felt more real and filled with emotion.

Finally he stood up and held his hand out to help her up. 'Come on, let's find a bed. I don't know about you but I need some sleep.'

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

When Sherlock awoke the next morning it was with strange feeling of deja vu. Once again he was tangled up with sheets and a naked Molly Hooper but this time it was less of a shock and more of an expectation.

He lay there for a short while enjoying the feel of her breathing against him, listening to the soft rise and fall of her breath. He knew they needed to make a move soon if they were to steal the car he'd spotted the day before. It meant they needed to leave before dawn but he couldn't quite bring himself to get up just yet.

He still needed to consider the consequences of him and Molly being together but now wasn't the time to worry about it. Instead he just wanted to enjoy it for once; enjoy being close to someone, being intimate with them. He might have had sex before but he had never shared an emotional connection with them, not like he had with Molly.

His hand moved across the skin of her back and she shifted against him. Even that slight movement had him reacting to her. He could feel himself hardening and it was fuelled by the images in his head from the last couple of nights along with a myriad of fresh fantasies about what else they could do together.

This time when her hand started to move over his stomach he didn't tense up or push her away instead he helped her to move onto him, their bodies sliding together, hands touching, mouths exploring. She was kissing his neck and he could feel her rubbing herself against his cock and he wanted to feel her on him, wanted that tight, wet heat to envelop him once more. Being with her seemed to calm his mind in a way he'd only previously had from drugs. He knew it was an addiction he might find hard to break but in this moment he didn't care.

Molly sat up a little, looking down at him with sleep filled eyes, she looked so beautiful with her hair all mussed up and a fresh love bite on her neck. Her nipples were a dusky pink and seeing them made his mouth water but before he could reach for them she lifted herself up and then took hold of his cock positioning him at her entrance before slowly sliding down onto him.

For a moment his eyes rolled back into his head as he relished all the feelings and sensations running through his body. It felt perfect, she felt perfect, and he wanted to shut them both away from the rest of the world and stay like this forever, then she moved again and he felt lust and desire starting to move to the fore.

His hands shifted to cover her breasts and he found himself fascinated with seeing his hands on her skin, she seemed so small in comparison to the span of them. The weight of her breast against his palm, the feeling of her nipples hardening, he took it all in consciously and subconsciously, storing away all the tiny details to be poured over and savoured later.

She was rocking against him now, seeking out her own pleasure, using his body as her tool, and instinctively he knew just how to help her. He lifted his head and took her breast into his mouth letting his tongue slide over her nipple before biting down, finding the fine line between pain and pleasure that he knew would feed her arousal. He was right and he heard her moan and felt her hand coming to hold his head to her chest, encouraging him to continue his ministrations. She was starting to move faster now and he cupped her buttock with his other hand with his finger starting to press against her anus knowing that even just that pressure would increase her ability to climax even if he didn't use it to enter her there.

She started to cry out and he felt her brace her hand against the headboard so she could thrust back onto him harder and he could feel his own climax starting to rise, that delicious feel of his balls tightening and lifting. He just needed her to come first, that was all. He wanted to feel her coming around him and on him.

He released her breast and moved his mouth to her neck and he spoke to her, he told her what he wanted her to do, he told her to come for him and as he did he pushed his finger into her backside, not much just to the first knuckle and then he felt it, he felt her muscles convulsing and contracting as she came around him, he heard her cry out his name and it all took him over the edge, his mind whiting out as he gave into his body taking over his conscious mind.

This time, as they separated, there was little chance to rest; Sherlock knew they needed to get going before it became too busy for him to risk stealing the car. He said as much to Molly before kissing her one last time then he got out of the bed to get dressed. Molly watched him leave the room and took a moment to sit up and catch her breath. She still had no idea what she and Sherlock were, if they were anything at all but at least it was looking more positive than it had the day before. She knew they needed to talk but now wasn't the time.

As they packed up their things though she did ask him why they couldn't spend a little longer in this house...even just for another night.

'She knows the rough area we're in, we know that much from the helicopter. There's a chance that someone in the cafe may have spotted and reported us and it's not a huge leap from there to look at empty or abandoned properties within walking distance. She'd find us within 24 hours if we stay here. We have to keep moving, at least for now.'

Twenty minutes later and Molly was nervously keeping watch whilst Sherlock broke into the car. She couldn't believe how fast her heart was beating and every noise had her straining her eyes in the pre-dawn, and thankfully foggy morning, to try to see whether anyone would catch them. It was a relief when she heard the engine starting up behind her and she could finally retreat to the relative sanctuary of the car.

Before they set off Sherlock pulled something from his rucksack and got out of the car making his way to the front and bending down. She wound the window down and half shouted half whispered to him. 'What are you doing?'

He held up his hand and she could see a roll of something yellow, 'stick on number plates.' He explained as he walked past her to the back of the car. 'Always useful to have; they won't fool a close inspection but they'll be good enough for cameras and CCTV.'

He soon got back in and started to reverse the car out of its parking spot.

'Is there any eventuality that you didn't plan for when you packed that rucksack?' Asked Molly jokingly.

He grinned back at her, 'yes, you...I didn't pack you any clothes and I certainly didn't pack condoms.'

'Oh.' Molly giggled at first and then suddenly felt a sinking feeling...until that exact moment she had completely forgotten that she hadn't been taking her pill for the last few days either.

 **Pregnant and on the run? Yes or No, what's your vote for?**


	12. Chapter 12

**Wow, so many opinions about Sherlock and Molly and pregnancy. Let's just say whatever happens not everyone will be happy. I can say though that things will be resolved long before any pregnancy were to be known about, they're not going to be on the run for that long :).**

 **Chapter 12**

Sherlock must have sensed something was wrong because he glanced at her a couple of times as he pulled onto the road and started to drive away from the village.

'What...what is it? You've gone quiet all of a sudden.'

Molly felt a bit sick, she hadn't planned this...she hadn't even thought about it, she'd been so worried about all this running that her normal life and normal routines had gone out of the window completely.

'I...err...I just realised that I haven't been taking my pill, I haven't even got them with me. It was all such a rush. I mean, I left with nothing.'

She saw Sherlock's hands tighten on the wheel, his knuckles whitening for a moment.

'Maybe we can stop at a chemists or something, pick up the morning after pill. The chances are low but...' her voice trailed off as she thought through all the implications.

She looked nervously at Sherlock wishing he'd say something...anything to let her know what he was thinking but his expression was inscrutable as he concentrated on the road ahead.

She waited a minute but he still didn't speak.

'Say something.'

He frowned and glanced at her once again. 'What do you want me to say?'

'I don't know. Are you angry?'

'Why would I be angry?'

'Because I wasn't taking my pill and I didn't say anything.'

He shrugged. 'Molly, I was as aware of that as you were, you aren't solely to blame. Sex is a two person event...well mostly, from what I hear.' He flashed her a quick grin.

'Aren't you worried?'

She saw him narrowing his eyes. 'The chances of you actually being pregnant are low, yes it was the peak time in your ovulating cycle, hence your extra hormonal need for sex but there would still be residual traces of your pill in your system and there's no guarantee that I'm fertile...but if you are pregnant, well we'll deal with it then. We can't stop though and we certainly can't go to a chemist, not for the morning after pill anyway, they'd want details from you, details we can't give.'

Molly was taken aback a little at his evaluation, finding she was mostly, irrelevantly, hung up on how he knew where she was in her cycle but even though she agreed that he was probably right she couldn't help but still be a little concerned, she was normally so careful. She'd had one false alarm when she was 18 and she'd been paranoid about staying safe ever since.

She had to admit though deep down that a small part of her, the reckless romantic, would love to be pregnant with Sherlock's child. She shook her head at her own stupidity as she thought it and turned to look out of the window, watching the world pass her by. What was she thinking? She was on the run with a man whom she might love but she knew would probably never fully love her back, he might have had sex with her but it was a huge leap to bring feelings into it and now here she was daydreaming about having his child...she'd end up being a single mum, it would potentially damage her career and Sherlock would probably grow to hate her for effectively trapping him. She needed to get her hands on the morning after pill if she could.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock was also lost in his own thoughts. He had been surprised by his own reactions to their conversation. Firstly he wondered why he hadn't considered birth control when they'd had sex. He couldn't honestly say he had thought about it at all and that was very unlike him. He might not be used to having sex but he was well aware of all the risks that went with it. Secondly, he had had a sudden image in his head of Molly in the front room at Baker St heavily pregnant with his child and even though he had never before contemplated having children in his life he found that it was a not unappealing idea. He had been helping John with Rosie and he had seen the bond that they shared.

He banged his hand against the wheel and was conscious that he had made Molly jump; knew that she was looking at him nervously. He was being stupid, sentimental, and reckless. He needed to concentrate his efforts on the job in hand, a job which was even harder now that Mycroft was incapacitated. He needed to get Molly to safety and then go to London to confront Eurus himself.

There was only one place that he could think of where Molly would be truly protected and he wondered that he hadn't thought of it sooner, he needed to get her to his parent's house.

He calculated the route in his head, taking into account avoiding main roads and motorways. It would take them just under six hours. At the next junction he turned right and headed in their direction.

It was a plan that would have worked perfectly had they not broken down two hours from their final destination. Molly had slept on and off during the morning and had taken over the driving after lunch to give Sherlock a break but just as they were making their way around the outskirts of Reading the car started to jolt and shudder. Molly just had time to put the hazards on and pull into a side street and then the engine cut out completely.

Sherlock had her pop the bonnet and she stood by him as he prodded and poked at the engine but then he straightened up and swore, running his hands through his short haircut making bits of it stand up at weird angles. He looked around.

'Dammit, we'll have to go on foot from here, try and get another car maybe...'

They removed their back packs from the back seat and started to walk towards the town centre.

'Are we heading anywhere in particular?' Molly asked as they trudged through the back streets.

'I need to get you to my parent's house. Eurus won't want to involve them in what she's doing so you should be safe there.'

Molly felt a little flutter of nerves at the idea of meeting Sherlock's parents. She'd heard a little about them from John and from Mary before she had died and whilst his dad sounded sweet it seemed as though his mum was the one who ruled the family, a very matriarchal set up...what if his mum didn't like her?

'Why does that sound as though you aren't staying as well?'

'I'm not. I need to get back to London.'

Molly stopped in her tracks. 'No.'

Sherlock fast realised she wasn't with him and turned back to see what was up. 'No what?'

'No, I'm not staying somewhere safe whilst you put yourself at risk. I'm coming with you.'

He huffed in exasperation, rolling his eyes. 'Molly I haven't gone to all this trouble just to take you back into danger.'

She could feel herself starting to get emotional at the idea of being separated from him and she dug her nails into her palm to try to control herself. 'Sherlock...I...I can't watch you put yourself at risk...not alone...just let me help you...please.'

He was about to answer when he saw a police car slow down as it drove past them.

'Molly, start walking...NOW! Follow my lead.'

He set a fast pace and ducked into an alley way between the houses they'd been walking past. As they got out of sight of the road he heard the quick whoop of a siren and he started to run hearing Molly close behind him. He tried not to go faster than she could manage but he wanted to put some distance between them and that police car.

Luckily for them the back alleys they were on were numerous and too narrow for the car that was tailing them to easily navigate. Sherlock kept switching direction, until finally they burst out of one onto a main road. His eyes immediately fell on a bus across the road and he ran out into the traffic causing two cars to grind to a halt beeping their horns. He grabbed Molly's hand and pulled her with him ignoring the shouts and swearing going on behind them.

They made the bus just as it was about to pull away and Sherlock banged on the door causing it to jolt to a standstill again but thankful that the driver didn't just ignore them.

The doors opened and they climbed on with Sherlock digging in his pocket for change.

'Two tickets to the end of your route, where is that?'

'Reading train station. You feeling lucky today then?' The driver chuckled as he printed the tickets.

'What?'

Sherlock's answer was terse and Molly could see he was distracted, looking at the road for signs of the police.

'Well, looks like you're heading wherever the wind takes you.'

Sherlock focused back on the driver and Molly started to feel nervous. She tugged on his hand. 'That's right, we just want to see where we end up. Come on Will.'

She heard Sherlock muttering to himself but he followed her down the bus aisle before swinging his back pack off and sitting next to her.

'I hate public transport, all that inane chit chat and look at the state of the people on here.'

His voice was a little loud and a couple of the passengers shot him angry looks and Molly dug her elbow into his side. 'Aren't we supposed to not be drawing attention to ourselves?'

He ignored her and carried on looking out of the windows. Molly couldn't help but do the same worried she'd see the flash of blue or see they were being followed.

At the train station Sherlock didn't just buy them a ticket each he bought them three. He then had them change clothes and swap back packs in the toilets before telling Molly what train to get on and giving her her ticket.

She grabbed his arm before he could turn away. 'Hang on, you are getting the same train aren't you? Promise me.'

'Yes, don't worry. I'm not leaving until you're safe but it's better that we split up for now. I'll find you on the train. Now hurry.'

Molly couldn't help but feel suspicious, she didn't put it past him to leave her to go back to London but he hadn't told her how to get to his parents or what to do after getting on the train so that gave her some comfort...she didn't believe he's just desert her.

The train she needed was on time and she surreptitiously looked up and down the platform for some sign of Sherlock. She was still looking out for him when she got on, waiting at one of the doors with the window down so she could watch the platform but still nothing. Her nerves were at breaking point and as the guard blew the whistle and the train started to move she wondered if she shouldn't just open the door and jump back out before it was too late and she was carried away. Her heart grew heavier as she watched the tarmac slip away faster and faster until the train finally left the platform and she felt tears spring into her eyes. She felt so alone...she felt abandoned.

 **Where is Sherlock? I hope you're all still enjoying this little adventure. If so, let me know xxx**


	13. Chapter 13

**Alone or not alone? Read on to find out. Hope you all are having as good a week as I am and as good a weather as we're getting here on the south coast of England.**

 **Chapter 13**

Molly could feel anger and despair rising up in her as she saw the platform start to blur as the train picked up speed. Dammit she should have got off and gone to find him but her indecision had decided it for her and she was stuck on the train, alone and without Sherlock.

It was then that she heard a thud behind her but before she could look around an arm snaked round her waist pulling her back against a tall lean body. 'Looking for someone Molly?'

His familiar voice followed by his lips on her neck had relief flooding through her.

'I thought you'd gone...that you'd left me.'

'Never. I promise you Molly that if I need to leave you I'll tell you, I won't ever deceive you.'

By now he had closed the window that she had been looking through and brought his other arm around her body, his hand covering her breast and squeezing it lightly through her clothes making her gasp. She could feel a hardness pressing against her bum as his lips continued to explore her neck, biting and sucking on the skin. She was just glad they were in a relatively private space although anyone could walk through any time.

Her hand went to the side of his leg and she pushed back against him feeling him grinding his now obvious erection against her and she heard him groan, the vibration of it rippling down her spine. 'Dammit...Molly, I shouldn't have started this...not here, not now.'

She turned in his arms and looped her own around his neck as he automatically moved to push her up against the door of the train. It didn't help that the rattle and hum of the train vibrated through them, stimulating them both even more, as Molly reached up to kiss him.

Her hand moved up into his hair as he reciprocated the kiss and Molly could feel herself getting lost in it, getting lost in him. As his tongue entered her mouth she let out an involuntary moan and she knew she wanted him inside her; wishing they were somewhere more private.

His hands were on her backside kneading the cheeks of her bum and pulling her closer to him so he could press himself against her and she knew they were just teasing each other more and more without any hope of completion.

They only stopped when a ticket collector came through the carriage and looked at them suspiciously. They handed over their tickets and he punched a hole through them before handing them back and pointing to the carriage behind him. 'There's plenty of seats, I think it might be best if you went and found some...don't let me catch you here when I get back, I don't want any funny business on my watch. You understand me?'

He seemed to be talking more to Sherlock than Molly, who knew she was bright red with embarrassment. Sherlock just gave a single nod of his head but when the conductor moved on he reluctantly picked up his abandoned rucksack.

'I suppose he's right. I'd prefer to fuck you but as it's off the cards for now I need to give some thought to how I'm going to tackle my sister.'

On Sherlock's instructions they sat separately so as to be less noticeable and it was over an hour later before she met up with him again outside the train station for a small village which felt like it was in the middle of nowhere.

As they walked away Molly spun around taking in the handful of houses...not even a village shop or pub as far as she could see.

'So, is this where your parents live?'

'No, but I didn't want us to get off at their station. They live about two hours walk from here, as the crow flies, longer if we stick to the road.'

He looked up at the heavy, overcast sky and frowned. It was already getting dark and Molly didn't fancy having to walk through the rain.

He huffed. 'We might be better off hunkering down here for the night and make the final trek tomorrow but I'm not sure we'll find a house. Looks like you might get your wish when it comes to camping. Come on, we need to at least find somewhere a little sheltered.'

Molly shivered a little, the wind was picking up and the temperature had dropped substantially. By the time they found a spot on the outskirts of some woodland, protected from the road by an old stone wall the rain was starting to fall, still only a light drizzle but it seemed a sign of what was to come.

They worked quickly together and the tent was easy enough to put up, just needing time to bash in the tent pegs using a rock that Sherlock found nearby. Once it was up they moved their packs inside and whilst Sherlock lit the mini calor gas bottle stove to boil some water for two cups of tea Molly rolled out the mats and sleeping bags, zipping the latter together so they could share body heat, she suspected they'd need it.

A few minutes later and they were huddled up drinking their tea and eating sandwiches and crisps bought by Molly on the train and they listened as the heavens opened deluging their small, fragile tent with what seemed like apocalyptic levels of rain. Molly knew it sounded worse than it probably was but the noise on the taut tent walls was deafening and she wondered how she would ever sleep.

It might still have been relatively early but given the lack of anything to do it looked likely that they would just go to sleep but it seemed that Sherlock had other plans.

As Molly finished her tea he plucked the cup from her hands and put it outside to wash off in the rain then he turned to her. She couldn't really make him out in the darkness but she could just see his profile and she felt when his hand cupped her face and his thumb brushed over her lips. 'Molly...'

Just that one word from him in a low, quiet, lust-filled voice had her body reacting as it remembered their foreplay from earlier.

He moved over her and she fell back onto the sleeping bags feeling the weight of his body as it covered hers. Kissing him was intoxicating, she only ever wanted more, she couldn't get enough of him...of this, of whatever it was that was going on between them. She knew she ought to stop him and be sensible, she hadn't even been able to get any contraception and more sex would just increase the risk of pregnancy but god help her she wanted him more than ever.

His hands were unzipping her jacket and pushing it from her shoulders before moving to unbutton her flannel shirt and Molly wanted him to touch her, she wanted his mouth and hands on her body just as she felt a desperate desire to touch him.

Before she knew it they were both naked and the time to stop things was fast disappearing but just as she felt she ought to at least say something Sherlock pulled back from kissing her.

'Stop worrying...if you're stressing about us having unprotected sex there's no need I picked it some condoms from the gents toilets at Reading station. I knew you'd be happier if we had something though to be honest I quite like the idea of you pregnant with my child.' She gasped and he chuckled softly. 'Maybe now isn't the time for that though.'

His hand moved between her legs as his mouth went to her throat and Molly found herself groaning loudly as his fingers invaded her with the heel of his palm pressing deliciously against her clit. Her mind was reeling from both his actions and his words and she knew at some point she needed to make sense of what he had just said but he was right now wasn't the time. Now she just wanted him in every physical way possible.

She could still hear the rain outside but it no longer bothered her, if anything it just made her feel as though they were cut off from everything else, alone in their own private, sweat soaked universe. She could feel Sherlock naked against her, the sliding, relentless movement of his hand as it brought her closer to her orgasm. She could smell him, taste him...feeling his mouth sucking on her skin, branding her, his unshaven face rough against her tender flesh.

'Oh God...I need you, I need you in me...please...'

She moaned as he removed his hand and she found her own replacing it, rubbing her clit whilst he knelt up hunting through his clothes for the package he'd bought earlier. She sat up, moving onto her knees, needing to stay close to him. Her hands moving over him until she found his cock and she couldn't resist leaning over and taking him in her mouth. He uttered a quick expletive as she did pausing in his efforts to find the condoms whilst he just enjoyed the feeling of his cock in her mouth.

She was still touching herself and moaning as she took him deeper and deeper and she was so close and she knew he was too. They could both have come like that but with an effort he pulled away from Molly and she could hear his laboured breathing and also the welcome sound of packaging being ripped open and she knew just how she wanted him.

She swivelled around on her knees so she was facing away from him and when he felt for her in the dark he soon realised what she expected.

She could feel his cock nudging against her as she braced her hands on the floor of the tent, gripping the smooth material waiting for Sherlock to enter her but it seemed he wanted to make her wait.

He leant over her...his chest against her back, his weight on one hand as the other moved back to her clit whilst his teased and slid against her. She moaned and pushed back against him begging him to fill her but he just whispered for her to be patient. She didn't want to be patient though and she reached back between her own legs and on finding him she moved him to her entrance and then pushed herself back and onto him crying out with pure pleasure as she did.

'Jesus...Molly...you feel so good...you have no idea how much I want you right now.'

Molly listened to that glorious voice as she rocked back and forth feeling him sliding in and out of her...but not enough, barely giving her what she needed. A moment later his patience broke and he straightened up, his hands gripping her hips as he took over and thrust into her until he was buried to the hilt inside her. He paused for a moment as they both enjoyed the ultimate connection then he pulled back out, almost exiting her completely, before thrusting back in.

He set a punishing pace and Molly loved it, pushing back towards him as hard as he thrust into her needing to feel every inch of him. His fingers dug into her hips and she knew he was probably leaving marks but she didn't care. Her hands slipped and slid against the ground sheet as she struggled to brace herself against his assault but she could feel herself falling over the edge into a mind numbing climax. As she came she cried out his name feeling him starting to falter as his own orgasm overtook him. He came with a roar as he held himself inside her and she could feel his cock twitching and pulsing as he came and it strung her own orgasm out longer as her body reacted to his.

 **Well we had to use the tent at some point didn't we! Sorry this chapter took a while to get up but I hope the wait was worth it :).**


	14. Chapter 14

**Seems as though you guys weren't averse to some smutty tent sex...well, it had to be done. Now we're off to meet the parents, what will they make of our Molly?**

 **Chapter 14**

Molly barely even recalled falling asleep but sleep she did and her fears of being cold were unfounded, probably due to being wrapped up skin to skin with Sherlock all night. So even though the rain continued until the early hours she slept relatively well.

When she awoke the next morning she was alone in the tent but she could hear movement outside. She was in desperate need of both the loo and a shower but as the latter was out of the question she got herself dressed, smiling to herself at the fact that her clothes were strewn in just about every corner of the small tent. The smile only got wider as she remembered the sex from the previous evening; whatever else they had between them they had amazing sexual chemistry. She'd never really, truly shared that with any of her other partners.

She finally emerged, blinking, into the sunlight to find Sherlock pouring freshly boiled water into their two ceramic travel mugs.

He smiled at her and even now, after sleeping with him, her heart flipped over in her chest at the sight.

'Morning, I thought you might appreciate some coffee.'

She climbed out of the tent and stretched.

'Thanks, but I umm...'

'If you need the loo, which I assume you do, I dug you a hole just in there..' he pointed to a thicket of trees just behind the tent. '…third tree in behind the bush. Not exactly the Ritz but well...'

She picked up the degradable wipes that he'd left out and trudged off...maybe camping wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Within the hour they were packed up and on their way. Molly was starting to feel nervous again about meeting Sherlock's parents and she asked him what they were like.

He shrugged. 'Like most parents I suppose, muddling along. My mother is the intellectual one if you're wondering where we get our brains from but as my father is also a second cousin of my mother myself and my siblings got double the genetic dose I suppose.'

'Are you close to them? You never talk about them; I didn't even know they were still alive until John mentioned them.'

'No, not particularly. I understand why now that I know about Eurus. The events of that year, when she killed...' he choked on his word a little and Molly instinctively put her hand on his arm to offer him her support.

He pulled himself together with an effort and carried on. 'When she killed Victor, it broke us as a family. My parents were understandably devastated, they lost their house and their daughter, I apparently withdrew into myself and Mycroft was more or less parenting me by himself.'

'Oh Sherlock...'

He gave a dry laugh. 'No need to pity me Molly, I remember very little of that time, though it's starting to come back in pieces. No, the worst part has been feeling as though my mind has betrayed me. The one thing that I thought I could rely on was myself; my knowledge, my brain and it's let me down. I hate doubting myself.'

Molly was sure she knew the answer to the next questions but she asked it anyway.

'What about...'

'Counselling...seeing a therapist. Tried it... more than once. Was forced into it every time I went into rehab and even saw John's old therapist after Mary... Anyway, they're all quacks. Mycroft tried to recommend someone but I think I'll struggle on through by myself.'

His voice was bitter and Molly could almost see him building walls around his feelings and she didn't want that, couldn't bear it.

She took his hand forcing him to stop walking and face her and she brought her other hand up to his face, stroking his cheek.

'Please don't ever think you are alone Sherlock. I'm here, if you want me, you know that.'

He took a deep breath and looked off to the side over one of the many fields that they had been walking past and through.

'I know Molly, but I'm not good for you.'

She frowned and felt confused.

'I think you should let me be the judge of that don't you?'

He looked at her sharply. 'No, not if it affects your safety.'

Molly found fear welling up inside her but greater than that was her feeling of anger and she snapped back at him. 'Sherlock Holmes don't you dare make decisions for me and about me without including me. I'm more than capable of making them for myself.'

There was a beat of silence between them and then a wide smile broke across his face and he shook his head. 'Molly, you never cease to amaze me...why do I always find myself wrong footed around you?'

He pulled her to him for a brief kiss before carrying on walking but Molly couldn't help feeling more than a little concerned as they made their way through yet another field. She still hadn't really spoken to Sherlock about feelings and their future and she knew she was putting it off, waiting for the other shoe to drop and him to turn around and end things and she worried about whether her heart would be able to come back from being so utterly broken.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock was, once again, feeling the complete opposite to Molly. For the first time in a long time he was feeling positive and hopeful about the future, about his future...with Molly. He'd always used the argument of Molly's safety as a reason for him to stay away but maybe she was right. Maybe that was a decision he shouldn't make on his own. And maybe he'd been using it as an excuse to cover up the fact that he had been too scared to embark on a relationship with her but now he was here in the middle of one he honestly couldn't imagine walking away from her...it would literally kill him. He knew that without doubt. He'd spiral so badly that not even John or Mycroft would be able to bring him back.

As they crested the hill he pointed out his parents cottage in the dell below and they made their way down. It was a bit muddy in places and Sherlock had to give Molly his hand more than once to stop her slipping and sliding. Her clumsiness used to irritate him but now it just made him chuckle and he laughed even more at her mulish, angry expression in the face of his amusement.

As the ground started to level out she asked him about his sister. He let him mind flick through the images he kept of her, his first sight of her, his shock at holding her hand and realising there was no glass (he still berated himself for missing that...it should have been child's play), her face on the monitor mocking him at his reactions to trying to save Molly...he physically winced at that memory, his heart contracting painfully. Then there were later memories, those of the two of them playing their violins together, him trying to reach her and help her somehow.

As he thought he spoke. 'My sister isn't just cold and emotionless like Mycroft or myself she is something other. It's not just that she removes herself from her emotions or locks them away she just simply doesn't comprehend them, not in the way we do, so she is endlessly fascinated at seeing them in others and in understanding them and manipulating them.'

'We're all just toys to her, dolls, playthings. Everything is valued by how much they entertain her and when we stop entertaining her...well, she just throws us away with as much empathy as we might give a used teabag when throwing it in the bin.'

'I thought I could help her; thought that maybe I could fashion a bridge between her and the rest of us so that she could live more in our world but I was wrong. I just became her favourite toy for a while...'

He paused for a moment remembering the last time he had seen her...she hadn't even stood up or turned around, just ignored him for two hours straight.

'The only people I've ever seen her show any genuine affection for is our parents...or it could just be that she hasn't seen love from that perspective before. She's quite the expert at love; it enthralls her more than any other emotion; trying to understand all the different types, familial, sibling, friend, sexual, romantic.'

They arrived at a small gate in front of a pretty cottage on the outskirts of a quaint village. It couldn't have been more English if it had tried.

Molly looked up at the house and then back at Sherlock as he opened the gate for her. She'd found his speech about his sister very enlightening. It had helped to fill in some of the gaps and questions that she had had about her.

He smiled as she passed him.

'She's very good at identifying love in other people and narrowing down who they love and how. After all she saw my love for you before I even recognised it myself.'

He strode up the path leaving Molly feeling a little dumbstruck. Had he just told her that he loved her?

Before she could give it any more thought the door to the cottage was flung open before Sherlock could even knock and he was immediately enveloped in a hug by an attractive, older woman in her late sixties.

'Sherlock, thank God you're here. Your father and I have been going out of our minds.'

She ushered him in through the door leaving Molly still stood on the path wondering whether she should follow them in or not.

She made her way to the door and she could hear Sherlock's mother still talking to him ten to the dozen. 'We've been trying to contact Mycroft through all the normal and non-normal channels and nothing, not even a message from his PA. You haven't been answering your phone and you've been plastered all over the news, a wanted man they say, the police have been asking all kinds of awkward and puerile questions, I don't know how you work with them. And to top it all the warden at Sherrinford has refused to take our calls. Now come in here and tell me everything.'

The moved off into a room on the left and Molly hovered in the hallway wondering quite what she should do when an elderly man stepped forward with a familiar smile on his face, he reminded her so much of Sherlock that she knew immediately that he must be his father.

'She's a bit of a force to be reckoned with is my Violet. It's where the boys get all their energy from, that and their brains. I'm sure you've worked out that I'm Sherlock's father, call me Si, and you, I take it, must be Molly Hooper though you look quite different from the photograph they used in the paper.'

Molly put one hand up to her short bob and smiled shyly. 'Yes, yes I am. I'm pleased to meet you.'

She shook his outstretched hand feeling his rough, cool skin. His hands were large like his sons.

'You look as though you've been travelling for days; I bet you'd like a warm shower and something to eat. Am I right?'

Molly smiled and nodded. 'Oh, I'd love a shower.'

'Come on then. Those two will be talking and plotting for a while so let's get you sorted out.'

He led her upstairs and pointed out a bathroom before finding her an old dressing gown of Sherlock's that she could use.

'Bring your clothes down with you and we can stick everything in the washer. I'll have a nice cup of tea and some soup ready for you when you've finished. Take your time.'

He left Molly to sort herself out and she gratefully stripped out of her filthy clothes and stepped into the blissful, cleansing heat of the shower. It had never felt so good being able to wash herself. Even after she had washed her hair and herself she still stood under the spray enjoying feeling clean and warm for the first time in days.

Finally she dried herself off before wrapping up in the old, flannel, winter dressing gown; turning up the sleeves to make them fit. It still smelt of Sherlock and she let herself breath in that familiar scent before she made her way back downstairs.

 **I hope you like my portrayal of the family and their impact on Sherlock. Re-reading this got me wondering where the names Violet and Sigur came from...are they fanfic names that have started to become canon or do they come from anything in previous books or films? I'm sure one of my brainy readers knows something.**


	15. Chapter 15

**You've all gone a bit quite, were you caught up with election fever or are you deserting me? Meanwhile thanks to those who mentioned the history behind the names Sigur and Violet, there were a few different theories and they were all fascinating...my readers are so brainy :) xx**

 **Chapter 15**

Molly could smell the delicious aroma of the soup as she made her way back down the creaky old staircase. She couldn't help stopping every so often to look at the family photos which were hung on the walls by the stairs. There was one in particular of a teenage Sherlock sullenly looking at the camera, with hair so long it was flopping over his eyes and touching his shoulders, stood with an equally sullen Mycroft, as smart and polished as now, which had her quietly giggling to herself.

By the time she made it to the kitchen Si was just dishing up the soup into bowls on an old fashioned large oak table.

'Come on, come on, sit down and tuck in. I know what my boy is like, particularly when his head is in a case, food gets forgotten and those around him starve.'

He turned and gave Molly such a direct stare that she felt a little self-conscious. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head and once again she was struck by his likeness with his son. They shared mannerisms as well as features.

'Hmm, something tells me you're different.'

Molly frowned. 'Umm...different how?'

'Can I ask you a straight question?'

Molly nodded feeling confused.

'You must forgive the ramblings of an old man if I've got the wrong end of the stick but you and my son...you're not just friends are you?'

Molly knew she was blushing and she had no idea what to say. They hadn't discussed their relationship status with each other yet let alone agree what to tell others. 'Err...'

He sat down next to her and patted her hand. 'That's alright my dear. No need to say anything if you don't want to...but I am very pleased to meet you. I wasn't sure that he'd ever find someone but I have a feeling and a strong one at that from what I've heard about you, that he's found his match. You'll be very welcome, this family needs a breath of fresh air in it and I think you'll do the job perfectly.'

'What job is that that you're talking about Si?'

'Nothing my dear, nothing.' Si stood as his wife and Sherlock entered the room. He turned and took down another bowl so he could ladle out more soup for Sherlock.

Sherlock sat down next to Molly and gave her a quick smile as his mother remonstrated with his father about making a mess on the cooker.

'Has my dad been looking after you then?'

'Yes, he's been lovely. I've had a shower and everything...sorry, sorry of course you can tell that. I'm being boring.'

She felt Sherlock's hand on her knee giving it a quick squeeze. 'No, don't do that Molly. Don't apologise for being yourself. Yourself is what I like.'

Violet came and sat with them at the table plonking down three mugs of freshly made tea.

'So, it's all decided then Si. Sherlock will be leaving for London in the morning to sort everything out with Eurus and Mycroft, and his colleague, Dr Hooper, will be staying here for safe keeping. You can stay in your normal room Sherlock and Dr Hooper in the spare room that the Watson's used last Christmas. Such a shame about Mary, she was a lovely woman. Anyway, i can't just sit around chatting I'd best check the rooms are alright.'

'Sit down mother I'm sure they'll be fine. Anyway Molly can sleep in with me, save you the trouble of making up the spare room.'

His mum frowned. 'Sleep in with you, why on earth would she do that?'

Si laughed and she looked over at him still looking baffled.

'Oh Vee,' he shook his head and turned to Molly. 'She might be the bright one but no understanding of people..not really.'

'What are you saying Siggy?'

'I'm saying that our son has found himself a girl.'

Sherlock groaned and closed his eyes. 'Can we not do this please, it's not relevant to anything.'

By now his mum had fixed Molly with a piercing gaze. 'Is this true?' She seemed to be looking at Molly but asking Sherlock so Molly kept quiet, wondering herself what Sherlock might say.

'Well of course it's true. Why else would I want Molly to stay in my bedroom?'

'Well...right...well I won't say I'm not shocked. I'd given up hope...oh well that makes all the difference. I am of course very pleased to meet you Dr...may I call you Molly?' She carried on when Molly nodded. 'Very pleased in deed; I thought this day would never come...but that does not mean she can stay in your room Sherlock. You're not married, you're not even engaged.'

Sherlock snorted. 'And you're not religious so why on earth are we worried about Molly and I having sexual relations outside of marriage?'

His mother sat up straighter. 'Whilst you're in my house young man you will live by my rules and that has always meant no girls in your room, whether that was at sixteen or thirty six! Do we understand each other?'

Sherlock sniffed and hunched back over his soup but he nodded his head.

His mother smiled. 'Good, well in that case I shall check the bedrooms.'

As she left the room Sherlock turned to his father. 'Dad, can't you...'

His father laughed. 'Intervene. No chance. She's been waiting for the opportunity to do that to you or Mycroft for years. Let her enjoy it. Well, if anyone wants me I'll be reading the paper in the front room.'

Molly nodded and then giggled as she heard Sherlock muttering, 'falling asleep more like.'

With that he left Molly and Sherlock alone in the kitchen.

Sherlock huffed. 'Outdated and ridiculous, I can't believe she won't let us stay in the same room.'

Molly chuckled; she'd experienced much the same when she'd took boyfriends home to her parents so she wasn't particularly surprised. If anything it had been fun seeing Sherlock being a child and kowtowing to his mother.

'It's fine, I'm sure we'll survive. It will just make it more fun, sneaking around and stealing kisses.' She turned in her seat and put her hands on Sherlock's face so he similarly turned to face her, both leaning in so they could kiss. It was slow and so delicious that Molly already wished that they didn't have this ban on them. If she'd been in her own home she would have moved to his lap and kissed him as long as she had breath in her body.

His fingers moved back to her knee, this time pushing the dressing gown aside so he could touch her bare skin. His mouth moved to her neck as his hand slid up her thigh. 'Mmmm you taste and smell amazing; I should have had that shower with you.'

Molly giggled and mock sniffed him. 'Yes...yes you should.'

'Maybe I could be your bit of rough. Let's not forget I saw how turned on you were when you checked me over in that ambulance when I was investigating Culverton Smith, you like me stubbly and rough and ready.' He rubbed his bristle-covered chin against her shoulder chuckling as she squealed and tried to push him away.

'I was not aroused. You were high and I was angry with you.'

'Angry and horny. I like you when you're angry and horny.'

His hand moved to open the dressing gown but Molly pulled it back into place. 'Sherlock...we're in your mum's kitchen.'

His mouth was still moving down her throat and his fingers were playing with the curls at the apex of her thighs and Molly wished she could just give in but she was mortified that Violet might catch them making out like school children.

'Please...Sherlock...' she whispered as she tried to move his hand.

He brought his head back up and looked at her with such a gleeful, impish look that she shook her head in despair.

'Please what? Please stop or please yes fuck me.' He brought his lips back to hers and the kiss was so good that Molly found herself losing the ability to reason, let alone stop him. His tongue was sliding against hers and his fingers were teasing her, moving against her but not quite applying enough pressure to do much more than make her ache with frustration.

All of a sudden there was a shout from upstairs. 'Sherlock, your bath is ready. Molly, if you come up as well I'll show you to your room.'

Sherlock groaned and pulled away, his eyes squeezed tight shut for a moment.

'Dammit, I don't suppose you want another shower?'

Molly laughed. 'I would but I don't think your mother would allow it.'

He stood, ruffling his hands through his shorter hair and Molly suddenly remembered that she still wanted to talk to him.

'Hey, don't think we've finished discussing you going to London and leaving me behind because we haven't even started it...but go have your bath, you stink.'

He sniffed under his arms and chuckled. 'I think you're probably right...as for that discussion, it will be a short one. Putting your safety first is more important to me than anything Molly...and I mean anything.'

The look he gave her took the smile off her face and made her shudder. For the first time she started to really believe that he might have feelings for her, true, deep feelings, not just words, not just sex.

She sat in the quiet kitchen sipping on her tea hearing his mother pottering around upstairs and the occasional splash from the bathroom and she contemplated actually spending the rest of her life with Sherlock. It didn't scare her as much as she might have thought it would, after all it was one thing to fantasise about someone and another to live with them day in, day out but having done that over the last week she felt more than just hope, she felt excitement. The only blot on their landscape was Sherlock's sister and whether or not she should try to persuade him to take her along.

Her main reason for not being left behind was fear for Sherlock and her need to know that he was safe himself but if she was honest that wouldn't always be possible. He lived a dangerous life, she knew he did and she wouldn't change it even if she could because it would change him. She had to trust that he could look after himself and she didn't want to slow him down or have him second guessing her safety and risking his own to compensate. So that seemed to be it then...she was letting him go to London whilst she stayed behind. It made her stomach turn over to think of it but if she wanted to truly be with him she had to let him do his job unhindered.

She nodded quietly to herself and then made her way upstairs to find his mother.

 **So, what do you think about Molly's decision? Is it the right one or should she be going with Sherlock? I'd love to know what you think.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey sorry for the delay in the update, life just got a bit busy there for a while but it was all good stuff. Anyway, I'm back...so shall we see if Molly and Sherlock manage any sneaky stuff at his parents' house?**

 **Chapter 16**

The afternoon passed off fairly quietly. By evening Molly was finally able to sit down with Sherlock and have her chat with him about staying with his parents. He was more than a little surprised with her decision.

'I was convinced you were going to put your foot down about coming with me.'

'Do you want me too because I will if you do?'

'No, God absolutely not; I can't do what I need to do if I'm worrying about you. But trust me Molly I will find a way to resolve this...I promise.'

They were sat on the settee together in his parent's front room watching the news and listening to his dad cooking dinner whilst his mum fussed about helping him and laying the table. Molly leant into Sherlock and stole a quick kiss from him. 'I know you will.'

He was about to pull her back for a longer kiss when both their attention was caught by a news piece about themselves.

 _'...the pair have been missing now for five days and friends are getting concerned for their safety especially in light of the destruction of Dr Hooper's flat in what is now confirmed to have been an improvised bomb._

 _It has been intimated in some quarters that private detective, Sherlock Holmes, planted the bomb and has kidnapped Dr Hooper but the police, headed by Detective Inspector Lestrade, have refused to confirm this line of enquiry._

 _A press conference was held today and an appeal was made by Mr Holmes' close friend and blogger Dr John Watson.'_

John's face appeared on screen looking tired and haggard and Molly felt Sherlock tense up as they watched to see what he would say.

 _'Sherlock, you're my friend, and we're worried about your safety and that of Molly's. Please make contact with either myself or Detective Inspector Lestrade. We just want to help you, both of you. It's not the same here without you. Your goddaughter Rosie misses both of you, she wants to play the game you made up, Vatican cameos, with you again and doesn't understand why you aren't here. Please just get in touch.'_

The screen flicked back to the presenter who started on the next news story.

 _'In other news London has been rocked by a recent spate of murders which are said to be gang related. Four bodies have been found in the last 48 hours alone...'_

Molly turned to Sherlock. 'Poor John, should we ring him?'

'No, absolutely not; promise me you won't Molly.'

'Ok..of course but...'

'Vatican Cameos...it's our phrase. It means danger...remember it Molly, in case you ever need to use it.'

'Oh...alright...so...'

Sherlock squeezed her hand lightly. 'I need to phone someone. I'll be back in a bit. Tell my parents I don't need any food.'

With that he stood and made his way out of the room leaving Molly wondering what else had been happening back in London for John to be sending them warnings.

She didn't see Sherlock again that evening although she heard his voice a couple of times filtering through the floor boards as he shouted at someone on the phone. His parents seemed completely unfazed by his absence but instead spent their time quizzing Molly about every aspect of her life. The only thing she was cagey about was her relationship with Sherlock but they seemed to respect her silence on that matter.

She did wonder if he would try to come to her bedroom in the night or if she should go to his and to that end she stayed awake for half an hour after his parents had gone to bed but just as she was contemplating sneaking over she heard his mother's stern voice seemingly louder in the darkened house.

'William Scott Sherlock Holmes if you think I can't hear you on the landing you've another thing coming now go back to your room and don't let me hear you again!'

Molly didn't know whether to be amused or frustrated at him being caught but either way it didn't seem like they'd have any opportunity to be together that night so she resigned herself to sleeping.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

In the morning she was woken by Violet bringing her a very welcome cup of coffee and after she'd drunk it, listening to the sounds of bird song in the garden, she made her way to the bathroom for a shower. The bliss of being able to take a bath or a shower whenever she wanted had not yet left her.

Afterwards she dried herself off and wrapped her hair up in a towel before wiping her hand across the mirror so she could check her appearance. She smiled as she did wondering at just how much her life had changed in the last week or so, some good and some bad. She hoped she'd get a chance to spend some time with Sherlock before he left for London but it wasn't looking likely. She knew what he was like and now he'd made contact and no doubt had leads he'd be wanting to set off as soon as possible.

She had a sudden hollow feeling in her gut. What if he'd already gone? What if he'd set off early and she wouldn't even get a chance to say goodbye? She turned to pick up her clothes eager to get dressed and check.

As she unbolted the door the handle turned in her grasp and she was pushed backwards as the door opened. Before she could make a noise Sherlock slipped into the room and gestured to her to stay quiet as he turned and relocked the door.

'What are you doing?' She uttered in a hushed whisper.

'Whatever I have to to spend time with you, you don't think I'd leave without us being together one last time.'

Molly flinched at his wording and he stepped forwards taking her clothes from her and dropping them on the floor behind him. Then he caught her around the waist and pulled her to him.

'Hush, don't be like that. Don't worry, I just meant I want to be with you before I have to leave. I fully intend to see you at Baker St in a couple of days where we can celebrate this all being over and you and I being free to get on with the rest of our lives...together.'

He bent his head to kiss her and Molly let herself sink into his embrace her hands gripping the back of his t shirt in a bid to get as close as possible to him. She could feel him slowly backing them up against the wall and then his hands tugged on her towel, pulling it from her body and leaving her naked. She heard herself moan as his hands touched bare flesh and ran down her sides before cupping her back side, pulling her against him.

She could feel he was hard already and knew she was already aroused and ready for him, just the thought of him turned her on and made her press herself against him wanting more.

She could feel her breasts crushed against his chest and his tongue sliding into her mouth as his hands continued to explore her body. One hand kneaded her backside whilst the other moved between her legs, parting her curls so his middle finger could move over her clit making her moan again.

He swallowed the noise with his kiss but as he let his finger enter her he broke off, letting out a sigh. 'God Molly you're so wet, I can't wait to fuck you.'

She let her head fall back onto the wall, her eyes closing as she gave into the feelings his hand was generating within her. The heat and humidity in the room seemed to add to her arousal and she could feel an orgasm starting to build within her.

'So don't wait,' was all she could utter.

She looked at him briefly to see his lips quirking up into a quick smile.

'Patience, I want you ready for me first.'

He moved his face to her neck and licked and sucked on the skin below her ear whilst he added a second finger to the one already noisily sliding in and out of her and Molly felt her heart pick up a bit more, her breathing getting heavier as lust washed over her.

Just as she thought she would come he withdrew his hand, sucking his fingers clean in front of her which meant she had to bite back a groan of pure desire but as he kissed her once more he picked her up, using the wall to take some of her weight, and she could feel his cock nudging against her through the thin material of his pyjamas.

Within seconds she had moved it out of the way but just as she positioned him at her entrance she remembered they needed contraception. The head of his cock was rubbing against her, teasing her and Molly almost felt like crying at the thought of denying him.

He was starting to push into her when she lifted her head. 'Wait...wait, we need a condom.'

He huffed but didn't move and Molly could still feel him so close, almost entering her...stretching her but not filling her and it was like the most incredible kind of forbidden foreplay.

Finally he spoke, his face against her neck. 'I don't care Molly. I mean it I don't care if you get pregnant. If you want children let's just do it.'

Molly's mind was reeling, she knew she ought to stop, that this should be a decision that they took in the cold light of day and not in a lust-fuelled quickie but damn it she wasn't that strong. She wanted him, she wanted to have sex with him right here, right now and even as she tried to formulate her thoughts she could feel him entering her just that little bit more and the slowness and the hesitation just seemed to push her over the edge and she could feel herself starting to climax.

'Fuck, God, yes just do it...please Sherlock, just move.'

With that he let out a relieved groan and pushed up into her a one move and they both clung on to each other enjoying the feeling of finally being joined. As Sherlock started to move Molly felt her climax wash over her in what felt like endless waves. She knew she must be making too much noise because he covered her mouth with his own and she felt his thrusts start to falter as she continued to try to cry out his name even as he kissed her.

He gave in with a final thrust and she could feel his cock twitching and pumping deep inside her, releasing its seed, and she kissed his neck, her hands twisted into his hair holding him close as he rode it out.

It was only when he set her back on her feet and turned to put the shower back on that she realised what they had done. This time they hadn't forgotten protection they had actively ignored it. She had never been so reckless.

Sherlock pulled his t shirt over his head and then stepped out of his pyjamas leaving him standing naked as he checked the temperature of the water then he turned and took her hand pulling her into the stream of hot water with him.

'Won't your mum be wondering where we are?'

'Who cares? She only said you couldn't be in my bedroom, nothing about my shower. Now wash me wench.'

He chuckled as he said that last bit and Molly mutinously punched him on the arm before he pulled her to him for a slow kiss.

Much though she wanted to spend her time exploring his body she knew they didn't have long, not long enough, not as long as she would like and when they exited the shower she felt her heart clenching with fear knowing that the time of his departure to London and to danger was close.

 **I hope you enjoyed the smuttiness before we get into the dangerous part of the story. It's time for Sherlock to head back to London and who knows what he'll find there!**


	17. Chapter 17

**So we've had a heatwave warning here on the south coast of the UK and I am officially melting. I'm not good in the sun at the best of times but a heatwave….I've spent most of today doing nothing but lie languidly on a settee which sounds better than I look. I'm sure I'm more beached whale than anything else.**

 **Anyway, let's ignore all that and get on with the fic. Sherlock's off to London!**

 **Chapter 17**

Sherlock managed to persuade his father not to run him back to London in the car. The plates would have been picked up by ANPR as soon as they hit the M25 and any element of surprise would have been lost. Instead he had him take him to a nearby town and he took a bus from there to Bracknell and from there a train into London, doubling back on himself a couple of times just in case he was being followed. He at least wanted to maintain the element of surprise as long as he could whilst he assessed the situation.

Talking of surprise the one thing that had shocked him was the fact that Moriarty's old sidekick Moran had requested a meeting. The communication had been passed through his homeless network until it ended up with Billy and Billy had relayed the message to him late last night. It would have been more of a surprise if he hadn't picked up on the news report of gang related deaths. It wasn't a huge leap to link those deaths to his sister and from her to Moran but he had to meet with him to be certain.

He'd also spent time finding out what exactly was happening with Mycroft. That had been harder. It had taken time to track down Anthea. She had gone deep undercover in her bid to protect Rosie but she'd left him clues knowing that if he needed to he could follow the trail. It seemed that Eurus had blackmailed Lady Smallwood with those same letters that Magnussen had. She had used that leverage to force Lady Smallwood to have Mycroft implicated in Eurus's escape and the bombing of Molly's flat.

The thought of how close Eurus had come to killing Molly made Sherlock shudder and fist his hands in anger. He knew what he might have to do in London and he was prepared. It took his mind back to his final moments with Molly and his parents that morning. They'd been stood together in the hallway of the house and Sherlock had just wanted to leave. He hated the sentimentality and waste of time that came with farewells. He was determined to be back with Molly soon so what was the point of a protracted goodbye. Thankfully she seemed to feel the same way or at least how he felt and a simple hug and a kiss on the cheek sufficed.

When he turned to his mother she put her hand on his arm and looked him in the eye.

'Sherlock...your father and I know what you might need to do when you get to London and whilst we can't pretend we won't be devastated by the loss we will understand. We want you to do whatever you have to to secure safety for Mycroft, Molly and yourself...whatever that may entail. We're under no illusions and we see the time we had with her over the last few months as a gift, it was so much more than we ever expected...a blessing.'

As she spoke his father nodded and put his hand on his son's shoulder and Sherlock knew without doubt that they were giving him permission to kill Eurus if that's what it came to. He hoped it wouldn't but deep down he knew she may not give him any other choice.

As he arrived in London he easily mingled in with the rush hour traffic. He'd shed his jeans and hoodie along the way and was back in his suit, newly pressed by his mother. It felt as though he had his armour back on and his true personality back in place. The only thing missing was his Belstaff but at least the weather was still just about warm enough for him to not require it. Wearing his suit he could pretend he was just another office worker rushing to get to his desk at work on time.

He slipped into a painfully trendy organic juicing cafe just ten minutes from Baker Street and went straight through to the kitchens unhindered. Billy was already there waiting for him.

They didn't speak but instead Sherlock followed him out of the back door and into the alleyway behind. They stuck to the back streets until five minutes later they entered a seemingly derelict house through the back door.

It was only when they were safely inside that Sherlock turned to Billy and spoke. 'What time is he due?'

'Ten minutes. Fag?'

Billy held the open packet towards Sherlock who took one and leant towards Billy as the boy held up the lighter. He inhaled deeply relishing the burn of the smoke on the back of his throat and the speed of the nicotine hitting his blood stream. He hadn't had one since before his visit to his parents, he knew better than to smoke around his mother especially without Mycroft there to blame.

'Who's bringing him?'

'Smiffy, I trust him. He's cool.'

Sherlock just nodded. He trusted Wiggins; he'd never let him down before. He just hoped he was right about why Moran wanted to meet. This was potentially the break he was looking for, his chance of getting close to Eurus, whether that was close enough to talk or close enough to kill her he wasn't yet sure...and that brought him to his next item.

'Did you manage to get hold of the gun?'

Billy took a final drag of his cigarette and turned, stubbing it out in an overflowing blue, glass ash tray. Then he opened the drawer of the cabinet it was sat on. Sherlock heard the heavy sounds as Billy withdrew John's gun.

'It was where you said it would be. It's fully loaded, safety's on.'

He handed it to Sherlock who put it in his inside pocket. It was hardly subtle but he didn't need to be discreet, not yet.

There was a sound behind them and Sherlock stubbed out his own cigarette as the door opened and two people entered. The first was a young lad of barely twenty dressed in multiple layers of clothing all in various states of disrepair and filth. He nodded to Billy, 'alright, I met him as you asked.'

Billy palmed him some notes and the lad reacted in such a way that Sherlock knew he'd blow the lot on heroin and be blissfully high within the hour. He almost envied him; the high at least, not the lifestyle but then he turned his attention to the second man.

He was the second cousin of Lord Moran whom Sherlock had had arrested for the unsuccessful Guy Fawkes attack of the Houses of Parliament. It had been his first case back after being "dead" and he recalled it with a smile, remembering John's hilarious expression as he thought he was going to die.

This man was younger and slightly taller but with the same sandy blond, short cut hair and the same confidence of a man born into money, it was just a shame his family had lost all theirs over the years leaving the children to want all the trappings of wealth but without the means. He was wearing a sharp cut, tailored suit and walked with an air of smug authority.

He eyed Sherlock with a certain amount of distrust and that feeling was reciprocated. The two almost circled each other both staying just out of arms reach. Billy unobtrusively moved to the corner of the room, watching and waiting.

Sherlock casually leant against the old wooden cabinet which had housed the gun and crossed his arms, looking as relaxed as he could manage whilst feeling the complete opposite.

He'd already done a full deduction on the man. He was carrying a weapon in his inside pocket, just as he was. He was a second son, failed lawyer, married with no children but carrying on one...no two affairs. He was suffering from undiagnosed heart problems; a heavy drinker, whiskey, and trying to give up smoking unsuccessfully and he was in this for the money and nothing else. He had a lifestyle and image to maintain. He was also partially deaf, hearing aid, lip reader which might explain why he hadn't succumbed to Eurus's control.

'You asked to meet with me.'

The other man nodded consciously keeping his hands where Sherlock could see them. He was afraid and desperate and Sherlock thought he knew why.

'Your sister, Eurus, she's picked up the remains of Jim's organisation, the bits you never quite got to. It was fast, we didn't see it coming. At first it seemed like a good thing...I mean, I'll be honest we never really recovered after Jim died. He was the brains, I picked up the mantle but I'm not him. I've had to be brutal, make decisions I haven't liked but we were ticking along OK...making money, ruling the roost...it worked.'

'Then your sister turned up and Jesus but she's intelligent, even more so than Jim was. At first we didn't even see her, it was all done through proxies but that felt familiar, followed Jim's lead so to speak. She organised us, lifted us, pushed us to achieve bigger things, stuff that was never even in the public eye. If it had stayed like that, you and me...' he gestured back and forth between himself and Sherlock. '...we would never have met; at least, not on the same side, not with potentially the same agenda.'

'Anyway, two weeks ago she turns up in person, brings her own people with her and she has this weird way of getting inside your head, of making you want to do things you never imagined yourself doing. I was away at the time but I heard through some of my guys what was going down. Soon after the killing started. Now don't get me wrong, there's always risk and death in this game, I'm sure you know the drill...but this, it's without provocation, it's on a whim, she just gets bored, kills for the fun of it and there's no safety in that...it could be any one of us at any time and in any way. Death, pain it all just fascinates her. She'll keep someone alive just to see the pain and the fear, it's like she doesn't have any emotion or empathy...nothing, she's just dead inside.'

'So, that's why I'm here. We need you to contain her, we can't do it ourselves. One part of our group tried, four of them, and they turned up in the Thames a couple of days ago and Jesus...some of their injuries would turn even your stomach.'

He paused waiting for Sherlock's response. Sherlock took a moment, rubbing his hand across his chin, his eyes narrowing in thought.

'Can you get me in? I need to see her, talk with her.'

'Yes, I can get you in. She's been trying to track you and that girl you've been with for days and it's been driving her mad. She held a hot iron to one guy's face just for bringing her news that they'd lost you in Reading. We'd need to make it look like I've captured you...maybe rough you up a bit...would you be on board with that?'

Sherlock just gave a curt nod of his head. 'Just a couple of conditions, when I see her we need to be alone...and I need to keep my gun with me throughout...oh, and Billy here will do any injuries. I don't trust you or your idiots to not scar me for life.'

'Deal.'

Fifteen minutes and another cigarette later and Sherlock left the property with Moran. He was sporting a black eye and a cut lip and scuff marks on his knuckles to make it look as though he'd put up a fight. He didn't like being hit, who would, but it wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last and he'd walk over hot coals and worse to ensure Molly's safety.

Billy had taken some persuading though, not convinced that this was a kosher deal but it was the only lead they had and Sherlock was prepared to take the risk.

'Follow us, give me three hours and then go to Lestrade, tell him everything including where Molly is.'

'Alright Mister 'Olmes and...good luck.'

'I think I shall need a little more than luck Billy but thank you.'

He just hoped he wasn't walking into a trap.

 **Be a dear and distract me from the heat with a review. Is he walking into a trap? Should he turn tail and run back to Molly? Should I slip into an ice bath?**


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank goodness the weather has calmed down and we finally have more normal temperatures; I can breathe again and stop melting. Thank you all for your suggestions, I did try them and they helped…a lot! You guys rock!**

 **Chapter 18**

Molly hated the waiting, the not knowing where Sherlock was or what he was doing. His parents were amazingly calm and Molly wondered if this was just something they had had to get used to over the years...for both their boys.

It was a warm day and she sat out in the garden with his mother sipping her cup of tea and watching as his dad pottered around, weeding and preparing the garden for the oncoming Autumn.

Sherlock's mum spoke first. 'I have to say dear it was a surprise to hear you're in a relationship with my son...but a welcome surprise none the less. I had almost given up hope for either of them finding love.'

She fell silent for a moment as she watched her husband but Molly saw the way her expression softened.

'It's not easy for them. I know that all too well. Being so much more intelligent separates you in so many ways. Not many people understand the frustrations and the endless need to keep your mind occupied and because they don't understand we close ourselves off, become self-sufficient and try to tell ourselves we don't need friends or love. I was very lucky to meet my Si. He was so patient with me. You know he proposed every day for a year until I said yes and he gives me a rose every day. His love was so constant and so enduring and then one day I suddenly realised that I loved him too and I couldn't imagine my life without him in it. I expect it was the same for Sherlock. He was always an emotional child but that incident with Eurus and poor Victor changed him so much; changed all of us. I spent years worrying about him, we tried so many therapists but he just either ignored them or verbally eviscerated them.'

'He was so closed off and then when he hit his late teens he found drugs and I worried all over again for him. Mycroft did what he could but...well, you know my boy and how evasive he can be. Finding work and having that friend John was the best thing that could have happened and if Eurus is wanting to ruin that...'

Her voice broke for a moment and Molly could see her struggling to hold back the tears. She reached over and put her hand on the older woman's arm and squeezed it, offering her support.

'Just make my son happy Molly. That's all I ask.'

'I'll do my best.'

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Once they had reached Moran's car Sherlock had been bound and blindfolded. It hadn't made much difference though as he had been able to follow their progress through the London streets based on the turns the car had made, the noises, the traffic lights so when they stopped he knew exactly where he was. It wouldn't help anyone find him though; he just had to hope Billy had kept up somehow.

The blind fold was taken off once they entered the building and as expected he was in an old Victorian factory. He was led down into the basements and into a small room where he was locked and left for an hour. He was just grateful that at that point they removed his cuffs and left him a couple of cigarettes and a lighter. He couldn't help but think how stupid they were though. If he had wanted to escape the lighter gave him an additional four ways of doing that on top of the six from not having it.

He thought through what he could say to Eurus to try to talk her down but he worried that it wouldn't be enough and he didn't want to kill her...not his own sister, not when he was still just getting to know her. He worried that he wouldn't be able to or that she would kill him first and that would just leave Molly unprotected.

This was when he hated his mind. The scenarios were playing out so fast and so constantly and they wouldn't stop. The only things that made it stop were drugs and Molly and Molly was too far away.

He stilled as he heard footsteps moving towards his door; heavy so male but soft so leather sole...from the sounds he deduced it was still Moran in charge of his captivity which was good. The door opened and Sherlock stood, his stance was on guard ready to react quickly if he needed to but he relaxed when he saw Moran's expression...the plan was on track.

'Time to move Mr Holmes, it seems your sister has granted you an audience.'

Sherlock none to subtly moved his gun from his inside suit pocket to tuck it into the waistband of his trousers at the small of his back. Thankfully no one had frisked him; all of them assuming Moran had done that already.

He nodded his head and Moran raised the gun at his side and gestured for him to leave the room training it on him as though he were a prisoner. Together they walked down a couple of corridors until they arrived at a door guarded by two men also bearing weapons. Thugs...low level...brawn over brains and very disposable. One of them greeted Moran and then opened the door.

Sherlock walked into a grey room which was very reminiscent of the prison cell his sister had been kept in, just not as modern. The furniture was sparse, there were no ornaments of pictures, nothing to give it life but it was obvious that she lived in this room, slept here, spent her days here. A voice spoke from behind him.

'It seems I can't escape my cell no matter where I go. Maybe it's within me rather than outside of me.'

He spun on his heel and one of the goons that had followed them in raised his machine gun levelling it at Sherlock as a warning. His sister was dressed all in white, leaning against the wall watching him. Her hair was shorter than the last time he'd seen her but it still hung lankly around her face.

'Sister...it's good to see you.'

'It's so easy to tell when you're lying Sherlock. Still so wrapped up in social convention even when you tell yourself you aren't.'

Sherlock jerked his head towards the man with the machine gun. 'Can we lose the idiot, that much stupid makes me nervous.'

Eurus smiled slowly and pushed herself off the wall. Sherlock had to admit that her smile made him more nervous than anything else. She held her hand out to the man for his weapon and Sherlock saw him frowning unhappily as he handed it over but neither of them were prepared for what happened next. Eurus just turned the gun on him and fired, hitting him in the chest and stomach with four bullets.

He dropped like a stone clutching his wounds and groaning, blood spilling through his fingers onto the cold, concrete floor. Moran had to take a step back as the thick, red liquid started making its way towards his foot, clad as it was in its expensive leather shoe.

Eurus crouched down watching the man writhing in agony, trying to form words with a blood filled mouth; her head tilted to one side. 'The way people die is fascinating don't you think Sherlock. Some just accept it, others fight it, I try to decipher their emotions but it isn't always that easy. I think I understand pain now...at least for them, the markers are obvious.'

She leant towards him as he tried to speak, bubbles of blood popping between his lips. 'I think he's asking for his mother, now why would he do that? What good would she do him? She can't save him.'

The man's heels dug into the floor as his body convulsed one last time before he fell still, his arm falling to the floor leaving another, smaller splatter of blood where it fell.

Eurus stood and walked away into the centre of the room, her back turned to Sherlock. For a moment he wondered if he should draw his weapon and fire but he knew he couldn't, not yet...

'You're a hard man to find when you put your mind to it brother. How is the delightful Molly Hooper? Is she enjoying her time at our parent's house?'

'This isn't about Molly...'

Eurus laughed and Sherlock wondered if he'd ever even heard that sound before.

'Of course it's about Molly.' She turned and faced him and he knew she was deducing him...he wondered vaguely if it felt this intrusive when he did it to other people. She stepped closer and seemed to smell the air around him before she smiled.

'You had sex with her. I knew you would. I saw how it was between you two when she came to John's therapist's house. I may not understand the point of relationships but I see them, almost like colours in my head. Mrs Hudson is the same colour as our mother...for you, John the same as Mycroft when you were little. Molly was different though. Your feelings for her were hidden, buried, almost like you'd buried poor Victor. That was when I knew I had to see how far they went and it was so much fun. You were so scared she would die that you finally admitted how you felt.'

She frowned and stamped her foot. 'But then you ignored it, buried them again...after all that effort that I'd gone to. So I made a new game, did you like it? I mean, it wasn't all for you, I needed something to occupy me whilst you were off fucking your little toy but it worked so perfectly.'

She wandered around the room letting her hand drift over the objects she came across, a table, a chair... Sherlock felt his mind reel with the knowledge that she had played him once again but it all made sense, fell into place. She could have killed Molly easily, but instead he'd been tipped off so there was time to go on the run.

'Maybe I should kill her now? I'd love to see how you would react to that...would you turn her into a dog or would she be a cat like the one in her flat?'

Sherlock felt pure anger seething inside him. He knew his heart was beating faster in his chest. His mouth was dry. He needed to divert her attention.

'Where's Mycroft? What have you done with him?'

Eurus clapped her hands together. 'Oh, he's been so much fun. Did you know he was gay? I don't think he really knew it himself until now. Sex and death...both so interesting and so intertwined. It's amazing what lengths people will go to for both...love and fear...is that what you're feeling now, brother mine? Love and fear?'

Sherlock tried to sigh as nonchalantly as he could. 'Well I would have thought that were obvious. I didn't realise you were going to be as boring as all the rest Eurus. You could at least try to be original.'

He knew it was a dangerous tack but he still had the gun, still had the upper hand.

Eurus narrowed her eyes and stepped closer to him. 'Hmm, so you want novelty? Fine, killing her would be, as you say, predictable and boring. Maybe we should lock her up with Mycroft. Do you think your brother would actually fuck her if he thought her life depended on it? Or we could just give her to some of the men outside...' she indicated towards the door with a wave of her hand. 'They have some disturbing kinks amongst them...I blame the internet, porn is just everywhere isn't it and so extreme...but there we are back to sex and death again.'

She stepped into Sherlock's personal space and looked up at him. 'Or maybe I should let you both go...after all you love me don't you brother?'

She lay her head on his chest and put her arms around his waist hugging him. Sherlock stood rigid wondering where her tricks and mind plays were leading him this time.

'You always were my favourite Sherlock. We used to play together before Victor came along and you were always so pliable, so easy. Even now you trust far too easily.'

She released him and stepped away and Sherlock felt his heart sink as he saw his gun in her hand.

 **Go on, I'm nervous to know what you think of my Eurus. She's not an easy person to write. Don't be too brutal. Meanwhile I'll be back soon with a new chapter. Take care xx.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hello, I'm back. So glad that you thought I'd captured Eurus' voice OK. I just hope now that you like how the story plays out. We're close to the end now.**

 **Chapter 19**

Eurus held the gun loosely and shook her head. 'I'm disappointed Sherlock. Did you think you could just walk in here and kill me? Do I mean that little to you? The sister you didn't know you had and less than six months later you could just kill me. I thought we were family, I thought we meant more to each other than this.'

Sherlock felt his anger rising. 'Family! You have no idea what that term even means Eurus. You killed my friend, a child, and left him unfound for years. You ripped our family apart and then plotted and conspired with Moriarty to mess with my head, threatening my friends, trying to get me to commit suicide. Then when that didn't work you lured me to your island playground, threatened the woman I love and tried to make me choose between killing my best friend or my brother and still you weren't done as this recent game has proved. You care about nothing and no one, the only reason myself and Mycroft are still alive is because we're the closest you have to someone who understands you...who challenges you in some way. You are without feeling, without emotion and you know what...I pity you. I thought I wanted to be like you but I don't and I never will be thankfully.'

He carried on...walking closer to her as he did, ignoring the fact that she was holding his gun, his emotions and anger overwhelming him.

'Your life is made up of prison cells, those we put you in and those you build for yourself and you will never be more than this...this cold, empty life, alone, unloved. I tried to connect with you, I tried to be your brother but you repay me by trying to kill the woman I love and yes, I acknowledge that now, freely. I love her and she loves me and it's the most amazing, uplifting feeling and no matter how much you dissect us all you will never even come close to understanding it. Your life is worthless, meaningless, valueless…..you don't even have the upper hand here.'

He gestured to Moran who slowly aimed his gun at Eurus. 'Even Moriarty's people despise and hate you and as we speak Lestrade and the police will be surrounding this building. You might as well give me the gun and get ready to go back to Sherrinford because this game is over.'

There was silence as Sherlock fell quiet; it was so still that you could have heard a pin drop. Sherlock had played his hand and there were two ways this could go down. Either she would kill him in a last act of vengeance or she would give up. He hoped it wasn't the former but if it was, so be it. Molly would be safe at least; Moran would kill Eurus and get out before the police arrived.

Eurus nodded her head and smiled. 'Jim was wrong about you, you always surprise me. Maybe caring is an advantage after all...it gives you something to fight for.'

She was still holding the gun loosely at her side as she spoke. Her voice was so soft that Sherlock had to strain to hear her. 'I could kill you now but I find I don't want to...but neither do I want to go back to that damn island and its endless, interminable boredom. I get it now, what Jim said about life, about the inevitability of it. I thought he was a fool for wanting to die but he was right. Staying alive is the final problem and it's one I see the answer to so clearly...just as he did. Seems he was right, Holmes killing Holmes in the end. I wish I could make it slow, that must be the ultimate experiment, to feel your own life ebbing away, the mental synapsis closing down, nerves and organs dying...but there's too much risk there, it has to be final, no possibility of being saved. Goodbye Sherlock…it was so much fun.'

As he realised what she was about to do he lurched forward, crying out, trying to stop her but she just brought the gun to her mouth and fired a single shot; blowing her brains across the furniture and floor behind her.

He saw her fall as if in slow motion, saw the spark of life fade from her eyes in just the same way as it had with Jim all those years ago on that roof top. He'd known she might do this but he'd ignored it just as he had with Moriarty. Unwittingly he had warned her off the idea just a few months ago, when she was pretending to be Faith, maybe somehow even then he'd seen her final ending. And he'd been right, her life was not her own, it was him and Mycroft and his parents who would suffer the consequences and fallout of her actions.

He heard the door bang shut behind him and knew that Moran had fled, knowing the police would soon be here. He didn't begrudge the man his freedom, it would be short lived, but he had served his purpose, getting Sherlock in and backing him up in that final showdown. Instead he knelt down on the cold floor and picked his sister up holding her in his arms one last time, hugging her to his chest ignoring the blood seeping through the arm of his jacket from her head.

And that was how Lestrade and John found him less than ten minutes later; dried tears tracked down his cheeks.

It was John who crouched down beside him and softly called his name bringing him back to the present.

'Sherlock...Sherlock, it's over now. You can let her go..come on, let Lestrade do his job.'

He helped Sherlock to his feet and slowly led him out of the building. 'Come on mate...let's get you back to Baker St, Lestrade can find us there.'

For the first time since John had seen him Sherlock took notice of what was going on around him. He pulled back from John, looking around as though surprised to find he wasn't where he thought he had been.

'No, no I have to get back to my parent's house. I have to see Molly...let her know it's safe.'

'Your parent's house...that's where she is?'

Sherlock frowned, straightening himself and walking unaided for the first time. 'I just said so didn't I...honestly John you can be amazingly slow at times.'

John rolled his eyes, looked like his friend was back again.

JWJWJWJWJWJWJWJW

It was almost dark when they finally made it to the sleepy Berkshire village and beyond it to the house that John had last visited when Mary had been pregnant with Rosie. He felt a stab to his gut at the memory and a longing to hold his baby girl in his arms. He wondered how long it would take for Anthea to receive word that it was safe and bring her back. He still regretted letting her go even though he knew it had been the right thing to do. Rosie's safety was more important than his need to be with her.

The door opened soon after Sherlock knocked and he was ushered through into the front room with his parents. John stood uncertainly at the doorway not wanting to intrude on what would soon be a private moment of family grief.

'Um...where's Molly? Maybe I could go and bring her up to speed.'

Sherlock's father smiled and pointed towards the back of the house. 'I believe she's in the garden.'

John closed the door behind him and made his way down the familiar corridor and into the kitchen. The French doors to the garden were open and he could see Molly sat out on a reclining garden chair on the lawn. She had a throw over her legs and he suspected she was taking a nap. A suspicion that proved correct as he made his way over. As he perched on a similar chair, next to her, she opened her eyes sleepily and he saw recognition and then fear wash over her face as she saw him.

She sat up suddenly already pushing the rug aside. 'Sherlock is he...'

John held his hands up trying to calm her. 'He's fine. He's in the house talking to his parents. Umm...it's not good.'

'Eurus?'

'She killed herself. Sherlock's blaming himself as he does but honestly Molly I'm not sure this would ever have played out differently. The woman was uncontainable and I've never seen anyone more psychopathic. I know Sherlock felt affection and a responsibility for her but having been stuck in that well and knowing she left a child to die in there I can honestly say I'm not sorry at her death. But how have you been...do you...did you see...'

'My flat? Yes, we saw it. How bad is it John?'

He shook his head. 'Not good Molly, there's not a lot left I'm afraid. Toby's OK though...seems he was let out by whoever planted the bomb...he was found by one of your neighbours wandering the streets nearby. She's been looking after him for you.

He saw Molly let out a brief sob, covering her mouth with her hand. 'Oh thank God. I assumed he was dead.'

There was a silence between them for a moment as they were both lost in their own thoughts, listening to the evening birdsong which was so much louder here than in London.

Molly spoke first. 'What about Rosie and Mycroft?'

'Sherlock was on the phone about that as we drove up. Given it's the second time that Lady Smallwood has been compromised like this he suggested in no uncertain terms that she stand down. She's sorting out Mycroft's situation and arranging for a message to be sent to Anthea that it's safe to return with Rosie. I can't wait to see her. I wanted to go with them but Anthea was right when she said it was easier to hide a child than a grown man already known in the public eye.'

He smiled. 'We had a moment there though. I'm ever hopeful that she will cave and agree to go on a date with me before too long.'

Molly chuckled.

'How about you Molls? Has there been anyone since Tom?

Molly knew she was blushing but it seemed obvious that Sherlock hadn't said anything and she wasn't sure if she ought to. 'Umm..no, not really.'

'It must have been a nightmare sharing with 'his nibs' on the run. I hope he treated you OK? I like the new hairdo by the way.'

'Thanks and yes, he was fine...on his best behaviour.'

'Good because I was thinking, what with your flat being out of action, maybe you could use my old room in Baker St just until you find something better. I'd offer to put you up at my place but Rosie's in the second bedroom now and it would mean you sleeping on the settee.'

'Oh, right. Maybe.'

Molly started to stand and John followed suit. 'Shall we make a pot of tea for everyone?'

John nodded. 'Sounds good to me.'

It was as they were making their way back to the kitchen that Sherlock appeared in the doorway and John saw his face light up in a way he had never seen it do so before. It was the work of a moment for him to cover the distance between them and then he took Molly in his arms and kissed her.

John knew he was in shock at what he was seeing and it took him a moment to close his mouth which had been hanging open. Neither of them had given him any indication that they were in a relationship but it was now blatantly obvious that they were. This was no shy first kiss and Molly was putting up no protest.

As they broke apart John saw Sherlock place his hands either side of her face and look at her with such loving concern that he felt almost voyeuristic watching them.

'Are you OK?'

His friend's voice was low and full of concern and Molly just nodded her head smiling. 'Yes of course. I'm fine. But what about you? John told me what happened. And you're injured.'

Her hand came to rest on his cheek close to his injuries from the punches thrown my Billy. He shrugged. 'It's nothing, window dressing that's all. But yes Eurus…she…'

Sherlock looked away, into the distance and John could see he was holding back his emotions and so could Molly because she just took him into her arms and held him tight.

John cleared his throat and started to walk away, not wanting to intrude any further. 'Yes well, I'll just make that tea then. Come in when you're ready.'

He knew he'd have to bide his time but he couldn't wait to quiz Sherlock on this new development. One thing he did know was that he was pleased for them both. They were so well suited and ever since he'd heard Sherlock say I love you during that phone conversation he'd long wondered about just how honest an admission it had been. It seemed he now had his answer.

 **Well? Did you like it? Was it too easy? I really wanted to link it in with Moriarty's death and mirror it but finding closure to these kinds of scenarios is never easy so I'll be interested to hear your opinions.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Firstly my apologies, I have confused some of you with my author's note last time. The good news (hopefully) is that the story isn't over yet. We still need to wrap it up with some good smut and also find out whether Molly is pregnant or not.**

 **And second, that you for all your support and reviews so far, I always love reading them and I try to reply to most but I know I don't always manage it but never doubt that I want them xx**

 **Chapter 20**

Sherlock had never been so happy to be at his parent's house. It was strange because even though he had spent a large part of his childhood here he had never considered it to be home and his home now was Baker St with Molly.

Thankfully given everything that had happened and the additional arrival of John his mother relaxed her rules and allowed Sherlock and Molly to sleep together in his old bedroom. Molly just held him in her arms, his head on her chest, as he recounted everything that had happened since he'd left her just a few short hours before. Her hand stroked his head and threaded through his hair and before he knew it he found himself drifting off to sleep, something he'd hadn't imagined would be possible.

He awoke in the early hours when he heard the car delivering Mycroft and he left Molly sleeping in order to go down and see how his brother had fared. It sounded as though he had suffered at Eurus's hands and given their closer relationship in recent months he wanted to offer his support.

Mycroft was unsurprisingly tight lipped about the exact details of what he had been through but he was keen to hear just how things had gone down between Sherlock and their sister.

'I can't say it won't be a relief to not have to worry about her anymore Sherlock. Trying to contain her proved to be singularly impossible and short of chaining and muzzling her I'm not sure what more we could have done. Maybe suicide was the best option all round.'

He asked after their parents and John, listening to Sherlock's responses and nodding but then he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

'So brother mine, you finally gave into your physical desires with Miss Hooper. I can't say as I'm surprised, we all saw how real your declaration of love was...it seems Eurus did one good thing in forcing you to act on your feelings.'

Sherlock frowned and looked at his brother quizzically. 'I'm sorry, is this the same Mycroft Holmes who told be caring wasn't an advantage and believed that love was a chemical defect.'

Mycroft shrugged. 'Yes, well I think we've both seen firsthand how a lack of emotions can be a negative. Maybe I'm coming round to your way of thinking...maybe...'

Sherlock smiled. 'Does that mean you might get yourself a goldfish? I hear Lestrade is single and open to both sexes...'

'Sherlock!' Mycroft's voice held a warning tone to it but Sherlock knew his brother's interest had been piqued. He'd give him three months before the relationship went public.

They were soon joined by John and eventually the others but Sherlock couldn't say he was sorry to finally be able to leave and take Molly back to Baker St. They hadn't yet discussed it but he was very much of the opinion that he wanted her to move in. He didn't see the point in waiting, he knew how he felt about her and how she felt about him so they might as well get on with it.

By mid-morning Sherlock, John and Molly were ready to return back to London. Mycroft had arranged a car but had chosen to remain at his parent's house for a couple more days. He was feeling somewhat aggrieved with the way some of his colleagues had added fuel to the fire that Lady Smallwood had started.

'Things are already falling apart due to my absence and it won't hurt them to realise just how much they need me back in post. Well they know where I am when they want to come a grovelling.'

Sherlock cast a wry smile knowing just how much grovelling these people were going to be made to do before Mycroft picked up the mantle once more…and he would, Sherlock had no doubt of that. His brother needed his political machinations just as much as he himself needed puzzles and cases to solve. They all had their own way of dealing with the hand they had been dealt.

John was probably the most eager to return. They had received word that Anthea was on her way back to London and would meet them at Baker St just after lunch to return Rosie back to her father. It was the longest the two of them had ever spent apart and John had surprised himself with the strength of his feelings for his daughter in her absence.

He distracted himself with quizzing Sherlock and Molly about their new found relationship; still finding seeing them together a novelty. They were sat side by side and although they weren't particularly interacting there was a closeness about them that hadn't been there before. Sherlock's leg touching Molly's, the way she was leaning into him slightly, the odd exchanged glance and knowing smile.

John sat in the backwards facing jump seat and leant forwards. 'So, come on, isn't it about time you told me what's going on with you two.'

Molly smiled and turned to Sherlock. 'Yes come on isn't it about time you told me what's going on with us two.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'I would have thought that it was obvious. Don't my actions say it all?'

John's eyes widened and he held his hands out. 'Umm…no they don't always and it's not obvious to me and clearly not to Molly either so why don't you enlighten us.'

Sherlock huffed and John could have laughed. He knew how little his friend enjoyed talking about feelings and he could only imagine how in the dark Molly probably felt.

'Fine,' he turned to Molly and looked her in the eye. 'Molly, just in case you weren't already aware of it I am in fact in love with you. I have been for a while now and only fully realised it after that phone call. I didn't act on it then because I thought you were better off and safer without me however you've proven to me, in the last week, that my assumptions were incorrect and probably based on my nervousness about being in a relationship.'

John was so tempted to comment on Sherlock admitting being nervous but the scene playing out before him was so perfect and beautifully unexpected that he didn't want to break the spell.

'What I didn't tell you last night was that Eurus set up this whole charade of going after you as a means to make me finally act on those feelings so it was my inaction that put your safety at risk not my action and for that I am sorry.'

By now Molly was holding one of his hands in hers and she brought her other hand to his face, stroking his cheek gently.

'Shush, you have nothing to be sorry about …and Sherlock, I love you too, but then you know that. You've always known it.'

He smiled at her. 'Well then, now that's all out in the open and given you may well be pregnant with my child will you also consent to be my wife?'

It took every atom of John's willpower not to explode at this new revelation and subsequent marriage proposal. He just wished that Mary were here to see that her predictions of the two of them getting together, which he himself had ridiculed, were finally coming true.

Molly's eyes were wet with tears as she happily accepted and John found he had to look out of the window for a while as the two of them kissed and held each other.

He was quick to make himself scarce once Anthea arrived at Baker St with Rosie, partly because his daughter was tired from the travelling and ready for an afternoon nap but also because he had a strong suspicion that Sherlock and Molly wanted to celebrate their new engagement privately.

He couldn't help having another stab at getting a date from Anthea though as they made their way down the steps from the flat.

'So, dinner next week to allow me to thank you for looking after Rosie?'

'Maybe not.'

'A drink then?'

'No.'

'Come on; give me something, some hope at least.' He held the front door open for her, giving her his best puppy eyes.

She paused on the street and looked away from her phone for a moment. 'Fine, my real name…it's Lisa. Maybe I'll see you around…John Watson.'

He watched her as she got into the back of the sleek black limo and drove away and then he smiled at his daughter. 'See Rosie, progress; she remembered my name.'

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock watched the two of them leave before turning around to find Molly switching on the kettle in the kitchen. He watched for a moment contemplating and assessing how he felt about seeing her doing something so ordinarily domestic in his home. Then he smiled to himself, it felt right...better than that it felt good, natural, perfect.

He strolled over with his hands in his pockets. He'd lost his ruined jacket to the police the night before and had had to borrow a clean shirt from his father and he couldn't wait to get out of it and he hoped that maybe Molly would help him.

He perched on edge of the kitchen table and chuckled when she jumped with shock as she turned towards the fridge, not realising he had moved.

He caught her arm gently and pulled her towards him, opening his legs so she could fit between them.

'I find I like seeing you in my home. I take it you'll move in seeing as your flat is out of action and we're soon to be married.' He saw her blush at his mention of their engagement and he felt a very unfamiliar swell of emotion in his chest. He distracted himself from it by playing with her hair, pushing a strand of it off her face and behind her ear. For the first time he felt as though they had all the time in the world and he wanted to enjoy that sensation, it was just another thing that he wasn't overly familiar with.

Molly put her hands on his shoulders and smiled, answering coyly. 'It doesn't look like I have much choice Mr Holmes. Will you want me to pay my way?'

For a second he wasn't sure what she meant but he cottoned on fast. 'Oh yes, and I'll only accept one form of payment…your body and my unfettered access to it.'

She giggled and he loved the sound. 'I suppose I need to start making payment straight away?'

'Mmmhmm I think that would be only fair if you want a bed to sleep in tonight.'

He saw her bite her bottom lip, teasing the flesh in a way that sent blood straight to his groin. Then she was leaning in to kiss him and he closed his eyes so he could concentrate his senses on the feel of her lips against his. Her skin was soft against his and she tasted of the chocolate that she'd shared with John in the car on the way back.

He let his hands slide down her back to her narrow waist and then down to her lush bottom and he pulled her against him a little closer so he could feel her body pressed against his. All the while they just kissed enjoying being able to go at a slower pace. They didn't need words; they just seemed to be in tune with each other in a way he'd never expected. He could feel his arousal and desire for her slowly building and he couldn't wait to take his time exploring her body in the comfort of his own flat.

 **Hmm what could we possibly have coming up in the next chapter? Let me know what you'd like to see ;) xx**


	21. Chapter 21

**It seems we are a community of not just Sherlolly lovers but cat lovers as well. So many of you are pleased to hear that Toby is alright and be assured that he will soon be installed in Baker St. He'll initially have a love hate relationship with Sherlock in that he loves Sherlock and Sherlock hates him but it isn't long before he wins the Consulting Detective around and Molly loves nothing more than to come home and see Toby curled up on a sleeping Sherlock.**

 **But back to the present day and we've finally come to the last couple of chapters and the smutty bit. I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Chapter 21**

He hummed in delight as Molly's tongue slid against his own and he felt her hands clumsily trying to undo his buttons at the same time as kissing him. Bit by bit he felt each one open until she was able to push the material open, her hands moving deliciously across his chest. He saved her the trouble of worrying about the cuffs by undoing them himself without ever breaking contact with her mouth and when he was done he shrugged out of the garment as she pushed it off his shoulders until he was sat half naked still kissing her. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of kissing her. It was nothing like the times he'd kissed Janine or anyone else for that matter. He was only now realising the difference that feelings made to sex.

Finally, Molly broke the kiss breathing a little heavier that when they had started and he closed his eyes as she kissed her way along his jaw and down his neck. Every so often he felt the tip of her tongue trailing along his skin as she tasted him and even the scrape of her teeth as she bit and sucked on his throat no doubt marking him. He didn't care though; he was hers completely to do with as she pleased.

Her hands were on his thighs gently squeezing his muscles through the expensive material of his fitted trousers and his crotch was starting to feel uncomfortable tight as his erection continued to pulse and grow with each touch of her mouth and hands. He wanted her to be naked as well but he could be patient, they had all day and all night if they wanted. Hell, as far as he was concerned they could hole themselves up in this flat for the next fortnight and not get dressed once in that time.

Her hands had moved now to the waistband of his trousers and he stood a little, against the table, so she could start to undo them. He had already gathered what she wanted to do and he couldn't say that he was unwilling. Even just the thought of her going down on him again had him groaning and eager to feel her mouth on his cock.

A minute later and she was on her knees in front of him and looking up at him with such a wicked gleam in her eyes. She wrapped her hand around his erection and pumped him teasingly, opening her mouth to him but never quite letting him enter.

He found he couldn't take his eyes of the sight and the longer she teased him the tighter his grip became on the edge of the table. He saw her pink tongue dart out at one point and lick the head of his cock, tasting him and the feel of it softly scraping his sensitive glans had him juddering and pulsing in her grasp, she was driving him mad here and she had hardly started. He knew in that moment that he wouldn't last, but he didn't care. He'd soon be able to get his own back.

Finally when his hips were starting to drive him further forward with each movement of her hand, she started to take him into her mouth and she felt so unbelievably good. Her mouth was wet and warm and she alternated the pressure on the length of his cock using her tongue and teeth to bring him closer to an orgasm.

He could feel his mind losing its grip on anything outside of Molly and the way she was touching him. All he cared about in this moment was his release. He took all his remaining control not to just fuck her mouth but he didn't have to she was giving him as much as he needed, taking him deeper than he thought was possible.

It was over when her hand moved between his legs and started to tug and pull on his balls, rolling them in her palm and letting one finger slide along his perineum. He let go of the table and slid his hands into her hair, telling her how good it felt and warning her that he was about to come in case she didn't want to swallow. He took one last look down at her seeing his cock moving relentlessly in and out of her mouth and saw the look of pure bliss on her face and he came, calling out her name as he did, feeling his seed streaming out of him in thick pulses.

He watched Molly endeavoring to swallow it but it was inevitable that some would leak out and it did, trickling down her chin and neck and he found himself wanting to lick himself off her skin.

He fell back against the table, spent but not yet sated. He might have just come but that didn't mean he wasn't still aroused. He wanted to repay the favour tenfold.

Molly sat back on her heels and moved to wipe his remaining semen off her mouth but he put his hand out and stopped her. Awkwardly, he pulled his trousers back up and then knelt down next to her. 'Here, let me.'

He saw her swallow once as she looked at him wide eyed and disbelievingly. She'd obviously never had a partner who had felt comfortable with tasting themselves, but given that he'd more than once given other men blow jobs in his drug-fuelled youth he had no hang ups about tasting his own juices.

He started at the bottom of her neck with the longest trail and let his tongue sweep its way up, gathering up the tart, sour liquid. He decided that women definitely had the raw end of the deal when it came to oral sex. He couldn't wait until it was Molly he was tasting. He moved to the shorter trail and when he reached her mouth their tongues touched before their lips did and he lost himself in her kiss once more.

This time it was he who finally pulled away and he got to his feet holding out his hand so he could help Molly to hers. Then with no more warning than a smirk he picked her up, bridal style, hearing her let out a shocked shriek as he did.

He walked them through to his bedroom and realised that Molly must never have seen it before given how much interest she was showing in it. He found himself hoping it was alright, though he didn't really know why it wouldn't be.

He made a show of dropping her on the bed in mock exhaustion before exclaiming that he had no idea how he'd carried her further when she'd fainted. He loved the way she scowled and then giggled as he kicked his shoes off before he crawled onto the bed to join her.

He kissed her again, feeling as though he was addicted to her kisses and just glad that for once this wasn't an addiction that was off limits to him. Her hands felt hot on his almost naked body and he had a sudden desire to lie skin to skin with her with no barriers between them.

He knelt up and slowly unbuttoned her top and she sat up with him so he could slide it off her shoulders. Her skin was so much smoother and unblemished than his own and he found himself touching and stroking her neck and shoulders, the tops of her arms and her back just feeling her. Then he quickly undid her bra watching as she removed it revealing her gorgeous breasts to him. It felt almost like the first time he'd really taken the time to look at them and he sensed her own shyness from her body language. It was as though they had hit a reset button and they were starting from scratch, seeing everything anew. Maybe it was because this now felt like it was part of their real lives and not some on the run fantasy.

She lay back down and he moved with her kissing down her neck, touching her breasts, feeling the silken skin beneath them and the hardness of her nipples, belying her arousal, but he was in no rush even as she arched herself towards him encouraging him to take them in his mouth he teased her. His hands merely brushed over the skin lightly never giving any substantial pressure whilst all the while his mouth tasted her skin, sucking his own brand into her neck. He wanted to mark her everywhere, he felt a primitive sense of possession which was raw and base within him.

Finally he let himself concentrate full on her breasts, assessing the size and weight, the texture and the colour, filing everything away so he could add it to his mind palace later. He didn't want to forget or delete a single thing.

Molly was almost begging him now and he sank down taking her right breast into his mouth, rolling his tongue over her nipple and sucking it into mouth deeper. His eyes closed allowing him to concentrate on his other senses and he felt her nails scraping over his scalp as she tangled her hands in his short hair. He felt as well as heard her moans as they reverberated through her chest and over her skin.

Her thighs were open and his body rested between them and she kept rolling her hips up towards him and he knew she wanted satisfaction. He was only to happy to give it to her...eventually. But for now he was enjoying exploring her body and playing with her, bringing her to the brink of orgasm and away again.

He moved to her left breast leaving his hand massaging and kneading the right. This time he used his teeth to tease her nipple and from the sounds she made he knew she was enjoying this more, as was he. Even though he'd come less than fifteen minutes ago he could feel blood pulsing back into his cock again already. He was still only half hard but it wasn't going to be long before he'd be ready again and he couldn't wait to be inside her again.

He sat up and turned his attention to unbuttoning her jeans, sliding the rough material off her slim legs, taking her pants with them so she was left naked. He stood and quickly shed his own so that they would have no more interruptions or distractions and as he got back on the bed Molly's arms were open and inviting him back to her. She was smiling and he was pleased that she seemed to have lost her shyness from earlier. He loved her body, he loved her and he wanted her to feel confident in that.

They lay together kissing and touching each other, their tongues meeting and retreating before meeting again. Her hands danced down his spine before sliding over his backside pressing him against her as she opened her legs to him but even though his erection was rubbing against her he wasn't ready for sex yet. He hadn't finished his exploration of her body yet...this, this was just the beginning.

 **You already know how cruel I am when it comes to leaving you begging for more so I give you no apologies. Just let me know how badly you want the second part ;) xx**


	22. Chapter 22

**It's not a super long chapter but hopefully it will wrap up all of the loose ends for you. Thank you so much for joining me on this little adventure. It's been a blast to write and I hope just as much fun for you as a reader.**

 **Chapter 22**

As he started to sit up Molly sat up with him trying to hold onto him and pull him back into her embrace making him chuckle as he extracted himself.

'Patience Dr Hooper, I haven't finished my fun yet.'

His chuckle turned into a laugh at the stubborn scowl on her face as she fell back onto the bed but he knew she was watching him as he scooted backwards and picked up her foot kissing her instep as his hand stroked her calf muscle. He slowly kissed his way up her leg and her inner thigh and by the time he reached the curls of her pubic hair she was moaning again and clutching at his sheets.

He paused just long enough to inhale her scent but then he moved his concentration to her other foot and leg, repeating that same, slow travel upwards. Molly's hips were relentlessly bucking towards him as he made it back to her quim.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly couldn't believe how aroused she felt. Sherlock hadn't even touched her "down there" and yet she felt as though she was on the verge of climaxing. Her breathing was in short gasps and her heart was beating ten to the dozen. She was sure she had been begging him over and over but she couldn't quite remember.

As he reached the top of her leg she twisted her hands into his hair and when she glanced down at him his eyes flashed up to meet hers and her back arched almost completely off the bed as he finally kissed her clit. The reality of sex with Sherlock in Baker St was unlike anything she had ever imagined...and she had imagined it often.

He was starting to lick her and she could feel him humming as he did, enjoying the taste of her and she felt her orgasm starting, she'd been kept wanting for far too long and her body just wouldn't wait any longer. He sensed the shift and gave her what she needed, anchoring her as her mind seemed to almost leave her body. But when she finally came back down he hadn't finished with her and he carried on licking and sucking and tasting her until she felt she would literally go mad. Her body and her nerve endings felt so sensitive that she couldn't seem to differentiate between pleasure and pain anymore, it all just felt too much.

It seemed she wasn't the only one suffering because when Sherlock finally covered her body with his own and kissed her she could feel his erection; hard and desperate and nudging at her entrance. They were both completely lost in each other, in physical desire. The outside world was forgotten.

Slowly but surely, with each movement of his hips, Sherlock sank into her. They seemed to move together perfectly, hands touching and mouths exploring as they enjoyed just being together and safe.

A couple of minutes later and they rolled, still joined, until Molly was on top and when she looked st Sherlock she could see his love and desire for her written all over his beautiful face and her breath caught in her throat at the sight. For a moment she wondered if she might actually cry but then he smiled at her and brought his hands up to cover her breasts and all she wanted to do was kiss him and make love to him forever.

Within a couple of minutes she could feel herself starting to come again and she wondered if she would ever stop. Her body felt so sensitive and he was playing her as though she was one of his violins. He seemed to know exactly what position she needed, how much pressure was preferred, whether to use his hands or his mouth on her breasts. She just had to hope that she turned him on as much as he did her.

As she recovered from her orgasm they rolled again and this time Sherlock was in charge and he set a punishing pace. Molly held on relishing every thrust, every snap of his hips; hearing him grunting and groaning as his own pleasure overtook him before he finally buried himself as deep inside her as he could.

She locked her legs over his backside and her arms around his back hugging him to her as tight as she could, not wanting to let him go and he obviously felt the same. He kissed her, before they finally separated, and it was long and slow and sensual.

Molly made her way to the toilet to clean up and when she returned to the bedroom it looked as though Sherlock hadn't even moved. He was just splayed out naked on the bed, with one arm flung above his head. As she came in he turned his head and smiled, patting the bed for her to join him which she did willingly.

As he curled his arms around her and pulled her close she rested her head on his shoulder and kissed his chest as her hand moved to his stomach, giggling as her fingers tickled him slightly, making him twitch.

'So when will we know if you're pregnant? I'm estimating two weeks.'

She leant up on one elbow feeling shocked. 'Are you serious?'

He frowned but didn't loosen his hold, just let his hand slide down to her waist.

'As we've just had sex again without precautions I would have thought we were both serious.'

'Yes but...no...but I mean, that's a huge decision. Are you sure you're ready?'

'Is anybody ever ready Molly? But if you're worried, yes I've thought it through and yes I'm sure.' She saw a flicker of a thought pass over his face and his expression changed to one of sadness.

'Of course, I will understand if you wouldn't want to have my children.'

'No, I do...why would you think I wouldn't?'

'Well, there's always a risk that any child we have, with my genes, could be like Eurus. It must have crossed your mind.'

'Honestly...no, but if that was to happen we'd cope, we'd find a way. Anyway, they'd be diluted with my genes so probably won't be a genius.' Molly giggled, lightening the mood.

Sherlock rolled them a little so he could kiss her but before he did he brushed her hair off her face. 'I hope they are more like you. I want my children to have a life and to know love, I want them to be happy like you.'

Molly brought her hand up to his face and bit her lip, looking and feeling concerned. 'Are you not happy Sherlock?'

'I am now, more than I ever thought possible but I wasn't for so long. You're the one that's changed all that...well, John too but I don't want to have sex with John.' He smirked quickly before being serious once more. 'I want them to be happy throughout their lives, I want us to be happy but I worry that I'll mess it up. I'm not a good man Molly.'

'Yes...yes you are, you're just driven and focused and single minded when you're on your cases but I know all that and I love you just as you are. I don't expect you to change for me, just to send me a text when you're off on your adventures with John so I know where you are and that you're safe. I love you, Sherlock Holmes, just as you are.'

He bent his head and kissed her and Molly lost herself in his kiss, feeling his hand holding her face, his fingers tangling in her hair as he tilted her head deepening it. Their tongues moved together as their bodies and limbs tangled together, skin on skin. It wasn't a sexual kiss, not yet, not so soon after their last coupling but it held the promise of more to come and Molly, for one, couldn't wait.

 **Epilogue**

Unsurprisingly Sherlock seemed to know before Molly did that she was in fact pregnant. They married two months later in a quiet ceremony in the church closest to Sherlock's parent's house and their honeymoon, or sex holiday as Sherlock insisted on calling it, was in the holiday cottage that they'd broken into when they were on the run. That had been Molly's idea, a way to remember how they had finally got together as well as a way to help repay the owners for the hassle they had caused them, not that they ever admitted it was them that had broken in.

The pregnancy was surprisingly easy physically for Molly but not mentally. As soon as Barts found out she was taken off autopsy's and placed on desk duties which drove her mad with boredom and she had a new found sympathy for Sherlock having to find ways to keep his brain occupied.

As for life living with Sherlock it wasn't easy or quiet but she loved it. He seemed to come and go at all hours, spent what felt like days playing his violin at times and regularly threw things at the wall or the television if he was feeling particularly bored. The one thing that didn't change however was his love for her and his concern for her wellbeing and that of the baby's through the pregnancy. As the birth approached he threw himself into reading up on parenting and labour and she pitied the midwives and health visitors who would have to put up with him.

At 3.10am on the 2nd June their son William Hamish Holmes was welcomed into the world and Molly didn't think she had ever seen a more beautiful sight than the look on Sherlock's face as he held his son for the first time. She didn't have many positive feelings about Sherlock's sister but the one thing she had done was to bring her and Sherlock together and for that she would always be grateful.

 **And there we shall leave them. I hope the last chapter was a fitting enough end, please let me know as I love to receive every one of your comments.**

 **Last but not least have you had enough of PregnancyLock!? I hope not because thanks to a prompt from mychakk my next fic is full of it. I'll be posting the first chapter later in the week and I hope you'll all enjoy it as much as this one.**


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